A Path We Trace
by YouSaid
Summary: Every time he makes Port, Emma Swan, the orphaned barmaid falls a little bit more in love with him. But one day, Killian Jones changes. And Emma Swan has moved on. But some things will always remain... Smut. CaptainSwan. Barmaid!Emma. Lieutenant!Killian.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One: **__The Barmaid and the Sailor_

* * *

Emma was bored out of her brain as she wiped down the tavern bench. It was mid-week, so business was slow, but that was a relief to her. Maybe she could finally finish that book she'd been meaning to read for far too long.

She wasn't a fast reader. Having taught herself to read her own wanted posters as a child, her vocabulary wasn't the largest in the world. And don't even get her started on reading aloud.

She was just setting down to read when a rush of people came in through the door. She heard Ruby coming down the stairs once the sound was heard.

They were uniformed men; belonging to some navy that she didn't recognize. But that didn't matter. They were usually free with their coins for any manner of services – or some of them were. It depended upon whose navy it was.

These men had obviously just fulfilled a mission or captured a pirate ship for they were in high spirits. Ruby and Emma quickly grabbed their trays of ale and headed out, taking one group each. Maybe if they got drunk quickly enough, they'd leave and she'd finally be able to read.

But as she handed out their mugs of ale, they greeted her with wide grins. Many were quite good-looking, she realized with a start, her keen eyes perusing the group with interest. Perhaps, if there was a little extra money to be made…

Emma sat back and watched them for a while. She wasn't as obvious as Ruby, who kept fluttering her eyelashes at a handsome man at her table, her dress decidedly lower than it should be. She had one goal and one goal only.

She bit down on her lip as she considered it, her eyes glazing over. Maybe she shouldn't. It was always good while it lasted, but then there were those who came back and expected repeat performances; like she owed them something. But she owed them nothing. This was her place.

So she should have been paying attention when a young man came up to the counter. She'd missed his arrival, but when he shot her a wide smile, she was definitely attentive.

"What can I do for you?" she enquired, taking in his appearance with a smooth once over. He had luscious dark hair, pulled back into a ponytail at the back of his head and his eyes were the most astonishing shade of blue – reminiscent of the sea upon which he sailed. She didn't realize he'd been speaking – eyes fixated on his lips for too long. She finally heard him saying, "Hello…"

"Sorry!" Emma answered, her face flushing in embarrassment. She noticed his head ducking as he hid his own flush. Oh. An innocent. This would be interesting.

"Not to worry love," he answered. Oh gods, his voice. It was like smooth silk. She could only imagine what that would sound like whispered in her ear as he hovered over her, her body on fire from his touches…

_For gods' sake you just met the man, Emma._

"My friends and I were wondering if we could get another round?"

"I'll be right out," Emma said with a smile – her best if she did say so herself. The young man left just as quickly as he had come, leaving Emma to quickly bustle around behind the counter in search of more mugs.

"_Emma!" _Ruby hissed, ducking beneath the counter with her. "Who's Blue Eyes?"

"Dunno," Emma answered, avoiding looking at her friend as the cups clinked against each other. "I have a book to finish."

"Emma," Ruby groaned. "C'mon. You haven't loosened up in ages. You deserve a night off."

"Someone has to close up, and you my friend already have your eyes set on a conquest for the night."

"He's dreamy, isn't he?" Ruby was gazing at the man doey-eyed and Emma chuckled absently.

"Go," she finally ordered, "Have your fun. I'll close up tonight if you're otherwise occupied."

"I love you, Emma," Ruby grinned, kissing her cheek before scampering off, her apron left on the bench. Emma was out serving again a few moments later, taking a quick look at the clock as she did. It was nearing midnight. Customers didn't normally stay long after one. Then it was back to the book.

She tried to avoid Blue Eyes until last because she did not need to be distracted by his handsome face. What she _needed_ was to finish her book.

But as she smiled at them all, she heard the distinct sound of them goading the boy. Perhaps he was new – young he was, most definitely.

The young man seemed flustered as his crew members goaded him. Emma smiled. It was all in good fun. Of course, she wouldn't easily refuse his face, but he seemed quite adamant to keep propriety. A shame. She would have loved to see what he could do.

Maybe on another night.

_Shit._

She wasn't sure what she had tripped over, probably the edge of her scarlet dress, or a stray nail on the floor that she'd have to fix later, but she found herself in a warm embrace, charming _whoops_ erupting around her as she found Blue Eyes staring at her with wide and worries eyes.

"Are you alright, lass?"

_Good gods, his voice._

It had to be from the Eastern Border because the way his tongue rolled around words had her feeling a little drunk even through she had imbibed nothing.

"Erm, fine," Emma said hurriedly, scrambling to her feet as she pulled his warm hands from her waist. "Thank you."

"Are you sure you're okay?" the man said, following after her as she quickly went back to the bar, brushing her hair from her face in embarrassment. She was the most badass barmaid ever, so how did she get tripped up by something as stupid as a dress?

"I'm fine, sir," she answered, her head ducked to avoid him. Gods, why did he have to be _nice_.

"Not sir," he answered and she felt a hand tugging on her wrist, swinging her body back to face him, "Killian. My name's Killian."

"Well, thank you Killian," Emma answered, carefully disentangling her hand. "But I really should get back to work."

"We're your only patrons, love," he said with a raised brow, "You could just stay and talk to me?"

"Because _talking_ is all that's on your mind," Emma rolled her eyes. It certainly wasn't all that was on her mind. Especially after feeling his hands…

"It is, actually," Killian pointed out, throwing a dismissive glance over his shoulder. "_They_ seem to think I need de-flowering –"

A choked sound left her throat. So it was true, that innocent vibe she'd gathered off him. He was a virgin.

_She wanted him._

"Fine," she continued, rather quickly, rounding the bar and grabbing a bottle of rum and two glasses. "We can talk."

She led him into a corner away from the very interested eyes of his companions. She wasn't intending to get drunk with him, or let this lead to any sort of dubious activites – after all, Ruby had charged her with closing up the bar. But it was no sin to linger her eyes upon a fine specimen for a while.

As she poured them both a small glass of rum, she noticed Killian eyeing the bottle apprehensively.

"Can't hold your rum, Jones?"

"It's not exactly my er, drink of choice. Leads to poor form," he explained a little nervously. Emma chuckled, handing him the glass.

"Well tonight," she answered, "Your ideas of poor form are getting rewritten."

His first mouthful was met with a blanched face, but seeing the smirk on Emma's face, he continued, swallowing it all in one gulp before the glass was put down with a loud clank.

"So, with your radiant face, why are you here?" Jones began, leaning back in his stair, curiously awaiting her response.

"Working," she answered honestly. "Got to pay the bills somehow. We aren't all as lucky as some people, Officer Jones."

"Lucky to escape with out lives," he murmured, reaching for the bottle again.

"So it's been a tough day?" Emma said sympathetically. It had been a particularly boring day for her. She'd done a little varnishing outside, dusted the rooms upstairs. A regular day in the life of an orphaned barmaid.

"Pirates just offshore," Killian answered, taking another sip. "They were attacking merchant ships in and out of the region. We've put a stop to it."

"A regular hero," Emma continued, sidling closer as she did. "So whose navy would you belong to, Master Jones?"

"Far from here," he answered with a wave of his hand, "King Frais sent us out here to map the unknown islands in this region and a list of known offenders to the crown."

His voice was amazing. She wished she could just give him her book and have him read it to her. Although, she'd probably ignore the content in favour of listening to the way his tongue molded around vowels.

"How long have you been…here," he waved his hand around, eyes fixated upon her face even as she leant forward, purposely showing him her generous cleavage.

"A few years," she answered with a shrug, "Ruby's Grandma found me, took me in. I've been here ever since."

"Found you?"

_Shit_.

He must have seen the apprehension on her face because he said sympathetically, "Rough childhood?"

"Hit the nail on the head," she whispered with a soft smile, reaching for her drinking and taking her first sip. She wasn't willing to share her life story with a stranger; she'd share other things, but not that.

"Me too," he answered, moving to pour himself another glass. Emma could see the light flush upon his cheeks; it appears that Lieutenant Jones wasn't too used to alcohol. Or women for that matter. Emma didn't think he'd glanced at her boobs, once.

Oh. Wait…

She smirked at the sly glance he gave her figure as he poured his drink. A few more and he'd be putty in her hands.

"You know, Erais is thinking of making this a frequent port of ours. There are a few uninhabited islands which could work in our favour."

Emma chuckled lowly, "My my, Killian Jones. Is this your way of saying you want to see me again?"

"Well, I find you intriguing lass," he answered, surveying her closely. "Perhaps, if you would like…"

"Do you know what you're asking, sailor?" she enquired, moving even closer around the table. Her hand that had previously been resting on her knee shuffled onto his knee and she felt him seizing up next to her.  
"Erm, Miss. Swan…" He gulped as his eyes glanced down at her lips, Emma's body sidling closing until they were pressed leg to leg.

"Emma," she whispered, leaning in to press her lips against his jaw. "Call me Emma."  
Emma was running her hand along his leg beneath the table, watching the side of his mouth clench and unclench quickly as she traced patterns over his thigh.

"Miss. Swan," he whispered again, sounding pained, "What are you doing?"

"Hmm?" She answered innocently, her free hand holding up her head. "Nothing."

"You're touching…oh."

Her hand brushed over the slight bulge in his pants and she her lips lifted in a smirk, continuing to rub her thumb lightly over him and noticing him growing harder beneath her hand.

"This isn't proper," he continued, flushing as he pulled his hand down to push her away. But Emma merely moved in closer to him so that her knee was rubbing against his and if her looked down he would get a very generous view of her cleavage.

"Why?" Emma whispered, leaning in to his neck as she continued to palm him. "Because you _want _me."

"That's bad form," he began, a choking sound cutting him off at the end as Emma slipped her hand beneath his breeches, watching his mouth fall open in shock, "Gods above, lass. Please."

"Please, what, Killian," she whispered, her breath coming hot against his neck. She flicked her tongue out to taste the skin of his neck, tasting the salty sweat that covered his skin. The effect she was having on him excited her to no end. "What do you want?"

"I don't know," he breathed, hissing as she grasped his length, feeling the weight of it appreciatively.

"Do you want me to bring you to pleasure," she whispered against his ear, listening to his panting breaths in their secluded corner. "Sink to my knees and take you into my mouth? Or do you want to take me upstairs and turn me into the wall – fucking me into oblivion."

He groaned when he heard her curse; a sound that sent arousal straight to her core. She didn't even want to know how wet she was – trying to ignore the heat between her legs.

"Emma," he whispered brokenly, eyes finding hers, "Please."

He jerked in her hand and she squeezed him a little tighter, speeding up her fisting as his head fell back. His hips thrust into her hand and she felt the warmth of his come spurting over her hand. He let out a low groan of pleasure as Emma continued to stroke him, feeling him going limp before she pulled her hand out, wiping it on the back of her apron and viewing his completely wrecked expression through hooded eyes.

"I hope I'll see you again, Killian Jones," Emma breathed, her voice low, as she placed a chaste kiss to his cheek, glancing at his glazed expression as he panted, trying to retrieve his breath. Just as she moved to stand, she felt his hand wrapping around her wrist.

A choked, 'Thank you?" came from his lips, as though he was unsure of what to say after such a strange event.

"My pleasure," Emma answered with a smirk before returning to the bar. She watched the rest of the night from that perch. It was only twenty more minutes before the entire crew had vacated the premises. Killian delayed, to the hearty guffaws of the crew. Emma was tucking away the stools and grabbing the keys to shut up shop when Killian hesitated at the door.

"Did you need something?" Emma enquired kindly at the door. She barely saw his slight hesitation before he was bounding across the room, his arm snaking around her waist as he pulled her forward, his demanding lips crushing against hers. It took Emma a moment to respond, but when she did, it was to skide her hand up around his neck and press herself into him. He was warm and almost needy in the way he slipped his tongue into her mouth, fighting her to be the one to pull away and say goodbye.

Eventually, they had to come up for air, and Emma tugged on his lip as they pulled away, a gentle smile gracing her face. Killian brushed the hair away from her face neatly before

"I'm very much looking forward to getting to know you, Miss Emma Swan," Killian Jones whispered, his breath hinted with rum.

"I'll see you next time, Jones," she grinned, one final kiss to his lips before pushing him playfully out the door. "Go save the world."

"Don't miss me too much, lass," he called back as he followed his crew further off down the road.

She wasn't sure if she would. But she knew that she'd be thinking of him. A lot.

* * *

_A/N: New Fic! Still need to finish Where I Am Ice; She is Fire, but hopefully I will soon. I've been quite off lately - mentally - and I've dropped out of Uni until the end of the year to figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. In the meantime, I will try and get a job, write Fanfiction and work on my original Novels. :)_

_This story will span time lapses as it will mostly follow whenever Killian makes Port in Emma's town. More story will be revealed in future. Thanks for reading!_

_Hugs and Butterfly kisses._

_Annie._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I have no idea what happened there with that whole massive EXPLOSION OF FOLLOWS! Dayam. I'm like, blown away guys that was incredible.

Now, as far as I can see, this won't be going for too many chapters. Probs like, Challenge Accepted length, max. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. Prepare for some more smut and for Killian Jones to lose his virginity. ;)

I'm thinking a Killian Jones POV soon. I need to know what's going on in his dashing head.

Love you! xx

* * *

_**Chapter Two: **The Master and the Student_

* * *

**Five Months Later**

"What do you mean you're going on holidays?" Emma's eyes were wide as Granny stood at the door, bag over her shoulder with Ruby smiling apologetically behind her. It was beautiful at this time of year – not that Emma had ever been much further than the northern edge of town. "I can't man this place on my own I'm –"

"Eighteen as of last week with a very dangerous left hook," Granny answered. "You can take care of yourself, Emma. We wouldn't be leaving if we thought you couldn't. Besides, it's only a week and no one's here this time of year anyway." She leant forward and gave the young woman a hug, seizing her tightly in her arms. "You'll be fine. Don't let it any unsavoury figures and I've told Graham to drop by on Wednesday, so if anything breaks down-"

"I'll let him know," Emma said with a final resigned sigh. "Fine. Go. Leave me. Have fun."

"We will," Ruby called with a wave.

And as they started off down the road, Emma turned and took a look at the empty tavern, putting her hands on her hips as she surveyed the scene apprehensively.

"You and I are going to have some good times this week, buddy," she said to the tavern.

Of course, the inanimate building didn't respond.

Wednesday came all too quickly and Emma had read five books in three days. She was getting faster; especially when she'd had so much time to pass. And when Graham knocked on the door around noon, she came bolting down the stairs to find Graham already entering the premises.

"I locked that door," Emma pouted, folding her arms as she hit the bottom of the stairs.

"I've had a key for a year," Graham answered with a quirked eyebrow, holding up the large golden key, "That and, as you know, I'm a very good lockpick."

Emma laughed before abandoning her position, surging forward towards the tall handsome man and throwing her arms around his waist. "That you are. I've missed you."

"It's been two weeks, Emma," he chuckled, looking at her fondly, with a sparkle in his eyes that Emma both loved and repeatedly chose to ignore. Graham was a constant in her life with his light blue eyes that had trailed after her since she had grown out of that awkward pre-teen stage. When her hair stopped frizzing uncontrollably and her skin cleared up and she'd grown breasts. Graham's jaw had dropped when he saw her at a town barn dance at the age of sixteen. And he'd asked to court her every month since then, proposals which Emma had, very politely turned down.

And about two months ago, she'd proposed friendship, which he accepted resignedly and she was grateful for even though she still caught him examining her thoughtfully – thoughts which probably lingered with him into his private times, but of course, they were his private thoughts and she wouldn't take them away from him.

She just wished that little sparkle would go away.

"There are some planks loose behind the bar," Emma began, moving aside, "Some nails loose over in that corner."

"You can do those things yourself," Graham answered with a raised brow, "Trying to keep me around?"

"Nope," Emma answered, leaning back against a table, "Trying to have a little holiday while no ones around. I'm not getting my hands dirty unless absolutely necessary."

"Of course, my lady," he mocked giving her a sorry excuse for a bow which she laughed away, going to retrieve a drink for both herself and the man working for her. As she sipped at it, a romance tale in her other hand, she couldn't help but watch Graham over the top of the pages. He was a fine specimen of a man, and he had the muscles to match his profession. But even as she watched him, she felt her thoughts drifting to another who likely had grown manly over the last five months.

Shit, it had actually been five months and she was still dwelling on it.

And it wasn't just his cock. Because, well, it had felt amazing even if she hadn't had the chance to fully experience it yet. It was his innocence and genuine curiosity. That unwillingness to bend his _good form_ all that more tantalizing. He was something she wanted to uncover and discover.

That was, if he ever came back.

And she knew he might never, but still she hoped.

It was a few days later, on Friday night when Emma was clearing out the smoke of her mediocre cooking from the kitchen, that the large crowd it seemed she'd been waiting forever for, waltzed into Granny's emptying Inn. Emma wasn't going to even pretend that she could cook, but since Granny wasn't here, if people asked for food, she had to serve up something partially edible and then apologise profusely telling them Granny would be back in a few days.

So, she almost didn't notice that the group that came in were mostly recognizable. She didn't notice the young man whose face brightened when he saw her. She didn't see his eyes follow her as she hurried to get drinks, her face quite plainly a mask of stress. So Killian left her be, his eyes following her as she went back to the bar, clearing away everything and reaching for a large glass of water.

That was when she noticed him, her body freezing up as she realized just who had walked into her bar – and who was walking towards her at that very moment.

"Hello, love," Killian began with a hesitant smile.

_He's grown up a bit_.

"Killian," her eyes widened as she took him in. Loose flowing white shirt, tight fitting white breeches. And a look in his eyes that wouldn't be easily dismissed.

"You remember my name?" he asked in surprise and Emma scoffed, grabbing a towel and beginning to wipe down the bench.

"What kind of town harlot do you take me for, Jones?" she enquired as she set to work. "I suppose you've had fun these past five months, fighting pirates and fucking whores and charting islands."

"Only a few pirates," he answered seeming worried by her tone. "And yes, we charted and have established an island base not far from here. But no. No ladies of the night."

She almost laughed at his word choice; proper to the end.

"Well, you're looking tanned, Jones," she said, changing the topic to that of a more conversational kind to distract herself from the fact that, yes, she had missed him, and perhaps him being here was reminding her of just how mediocre her fantasies were.

"I didn't realize just how much time we spend in the sun," he answered with a cheeky smile. Emma couldn't help but wonder if that meant he was working on deck, shirtless with sweat dripping down…

_He is right in front of you, Emma._

"And I'm sure you're loving it?"

"Best thing that's happened to me in my whole life," he answered honestly with a genuine sparkle, his eyes twinkling. "By the way, lass, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind us having a bottle of rum."

"I can't," Emma answered in disappointment. "I'm the only person here…if anything goes wrong."

"I understand," he answered with a soft smile, "Maybe later?"

"Perhaps," Emma answered, coquettishly hiding her hopeful grin.

She didn't do much other than watch him that night, half-hoping that he would come back and talk to her, but also fearing that if he did she'd jump his bones because of five months of pent up sexual frustration.

So she watched and waited, refilling drinks with fleeting touches to his shoulder, brushing against him with her breasts…

She was being so obvious it was almost painful to think about.

On their final round (she could tell it was final because most of them were pissed at that point and she would kick them out before they fell asleep in her tavern), Killian followed her, tugging on the arm of her dress and pulling her into a secluded corner (a familiar corner) where he slid his hand over her bare shoulder and up to her neck, eyes and actions begging the question…

"I would take you upstairs if I could, Killian," Emma whispered, "But I've got to look after this place."

"Like you had to last time," he smirked and Emma almost laughed. Someone had grown cheeky, and perhaps a little more confident since their last meeting. Or perhaps it was the rum. Either way, she couldn't help the returning smile that came to her face.

"Why, Jones," she answered flirtatiously as he reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, "What kind of girl do you take me for?"

"Why don't you close up and you can show me exactly what kind of girl you are?"

Emma pulled away with a raised brow, "Oh honey, if you think that's going to work you've got another thing coming." She was back behind the bar in a second, clearing of the table as she noticed some of Killian's fellow sailors already leaving. They gave her friendly drunken smiles as they left and she grabbed what was left behind. She cleared off the table and took the mugs to the sink behind the counter, Killian trailing behind her.

"Well, you did say we would do it again," he replied, sounding so eager that Emma almost laughed.

"That was more a suggestion than a promise," she answered, spinning around to face him. "Come on, Jones, what were you expecting? That I would pine every night until you just happened to walk through that door? For all I know, you were dead. And it's not like we _are_ anything. Just two ships passing in the night."

"Passing closely, I hope?" Killian whispered, sidling closer until Emma was trapped between his…ridiculously solid body and the counter. She couldn't help but drag her hands up to his chest in curiosity, her eyes growing wide as she felt his body. She could have sworn he hadn't felt like that last time.

"You were gone for five months," Emma sighed, glancing up at him through lowered eyelashes as he slid his warm hand around her waist, drawing her close. "I'm not the only barmaid you met."

"No, but you're the only person that I want to do _this_ to," he answered, lowering his head so that his lips brushed against hers. But Emma wasn't convinced as he kissed her passionately with a finesse that either meant he'd been practicing on his pillow or on other women.

"I don't believe you," Emma whispered, tearing herself away from his lips, a furrow on his brow. "You didn't used to kiss like that."

"I got someone to teach me, so that I could come back and kiss you like you de-"

"No," Emma continued, a furrow in her brow as she tapped her finger to his lips, quieting him. "I'm the only one who gets to teach you."

"Then teach me," he breathed, his eyes almost completely dark with lust. He gave her a look that made her feel so desired she could feel heat curling deep in her stomach.

"Let me lock the door," Emma answered, keeping her voice even. Control. She was the one with it. She could control herself. He couldn't. And she was going to make him lose it.

She skipped back towards him, taking his hand and pulling him up the small staircase towards her room. She could feel his eyes trained on the back of her head as she pushed open her door and dragged him through. He glanced around the dark room as Emma left him to light a fire. After all, she didn't want it to be freezing when the were…

She heard his shuffling feet behind her as the flames flickered to life before her, casting a warm glow upon her face and that of the man behind her.

"You're beautiful," she heard him whisper behind her, his face against her shoulder as he kissed her bare shoulder. She wasn't sure why she'd chosen this particular dress, but right now she was grateful.

His scent surrounded her as he kisses along the pale skin, nuzzling his nose against her form and inhaling her deeply. His hands were skimming the length of her body, brushing her waist and reaching for her hips where he began to rustle the material in his palm, reaching for the as yet unattainable treasure that lay beneath it.

"No," Emma breathed, covering his hand abruptly with her own. "No, stop."

He stilled immediately, voice pained as he enquired, "You don't want this?"

"No, I do…I just…" Emma spun round to face him, her skirt falling back to the floor as she noticed his saddened face. Leaning forward, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips, taking his hands and guiding them upwards towards the ties of her corset. "I intend to teach you. Properly."

His hands hesitantly tried to make heads and tails of the foreign dress, but with patient swirls of her fingers against his clothed chest, he finally managed to undo the bindings, and Emma slipped the contraption from her body. Raising her arms above her head with a cheeky smile she said, "_Now_ you can remove the dress."

She wasn't prepared for him to drop to his knees and remove her boots first of all, followed by his hands reaching up her skirt to roll her stockings down her legs with soft touches that were slowly driving her insane. Forget him losing control; at this rate, she'd go first!

And when she felt him lifting the material, she almost gave a sigh of relief. That was, until she felt his lips against the inside of her knee. Emma tried to restrain her gasp and instead a squeaky, "What are you doing?" escaped her mouth. She wasn't used to it. Men didn't take that sort of time to… She just wasn't used to it.

"Exploring," he answered, and she could hear the smile in his voice even though she couldn't see him. "Is it bad?" he enquired, voice muffled by her skirt. He continued his path upwards and Emma felt her heart rate speeding up.

"U…uh, no," she managed as he reached her hips and trailed his lips up her stomach before finally her dress was discarded. She shivered as she found his eyes perusing her form, nipples hardening beneath his gaze. Her hands reached for him, finding his shirt and tugging him forward, lips connecting quickly. He tasted of rum and she loved it – she needed more of it. Pulling his shirt upwards, she finally managed to get it over his head and smiled when she saw his chest. Running her hands down the tanned skin, dusted with hair, she heard his breath catch, and as he hands continued to lower, she felt exactly how much Killian was responding to her.

"Emma," he whispered as she palmed him through his pants. "Not like last time…"

"My hand not good enough for you, Jones?" she breathed, but began to push his breeches down anyway. Thankfully, he'd already kicked off his shoes because the anticipation was killing her. His hands were running up and down her sides and Emma couldn't take it anymore, kicking off her panties and pushing him towards the rough mattress that constituted her bed.

He fell with a dull thud, Emma slipping between his open knees and pushing her tongue into his mouth as her hips pushed against his erect length.

"Teach me," Killian whispered as she pulled away, her lips tracing along his jaw , teeth digging in sharply at a point on his neck that made his grip tighten on her waist. She grabbed his hands abruptly, bringing them up to her breasts and murmuring against his neck, "touch them."

The darkness flickered over their bodies, her surprise when he brought his lips down to brush over the soft mounds, tongue flicking against the pebbled flesh. Her body was responding to his touch like no other. She couldn't remember ever feeling so alive.

She needed him.

"Move back," Emma ordered, pushing him back. "Now."

Killian's eyes widened as he moved across the blanket towards the pillow, Emma climbing atop him quickly. With her hands on either side of his head, her hair falling in a curtain around them, she leaned over him, "Remember this night, Killian Jones," she whispered, reaching for his hardness and aligning him with her entrance.

"I'll never forget," he breathed as she sunk down on him and he let a loud groan from his lips. "Emma, gods woman. More."

Emma smirked as she rolled her hips over him again, feeling so full with the burn and stretch of him inside her. "You feel so good, Killian," Emma groaned as he pushed up into her, learning quickly what she needed. His hands burned against her breasts as he palmed them, eyes burning into hers as he didn't tear them away.

It had never been like this. Sex, that is. She was unused to his attention and that sparkle that was so plain in his eyes. That desperate want. That need.

"Emma, I'm…"

His voice was so husky and broken as she felt his hips stutter. Of course she'd completely forgotten in those few minutes that it was his first time and he wouldn't last long.

He let out a guttural groan when he came – his hands seizing her body hard enough to leave incredibly satisfying bruises – and she rode him through it, feeling his release coating her insides as he softened inside of her. His fingers traced patterns down her side as she finally climbed off him, disappointed but not entirely unsatisfied.

But as she rolled onto her side, Killian came with her, rolling on top of her to kiss her lips fiercely. He really was a quick study because the next second his lips were tracing her jaw towards her ear where he whispered, "Teach me how to pleasure you."

Emma shivered, pleasured merely by the sound of his voice. But with her right hand, she took his, and brought it towards her core. An audible moan echoed through the room when he touched her there, rubbing gentle circles on her clit.

"Inside," she ordered, closing her eyes in pleasure as he slipped a finger inside of her entrance and she almost rolled her eyes, looking down at him, as she leant up on her elbows, she raised an eyebrow, "Have you seen the size of your cock? You think one finger is going to make me come?"

His reaction was to quickly at a second finger, rubbing at her deliciously before his third one came into the mix and Emma felt the pleasure building inside of her once more.

Which is why when his thumb began to rub at her clit simultaneously, she was surprised, but not overly. He was proving to be an incredibly fast learner and it was making her incredibly horny knowing that he could be this good on his first time out. Gods, she would miss him when he left.

"Killian," she groaned as he kissed at the inside of her thigh. She scrambled for purchase on the sheets, finally finding it in his hair. "Killian, fuck. I'm coming."

She knew her nails were scratching his scalp and that he was breathing just as hard as she was, but in that moment she couldn't care. With her head thrown back in ecstasy, her thoughts were blank – everything focused on the pleasure rolling over her as she rode it out upon his fingers.

When she finally collapsed, he climbed his way up her body to kiss her again, whispering against her lips, "You're bloody gorgeous, lass."

"Did I teach you well?" Emma murmured, her voice sounding oddly sated and her body feeling warm and fuzzy, especially with Killian pressed entirely against her.

"You taught me very well love, I'll be sure to utilize those skills next time I'm here," he answered, kissed her forehead as he rolled off her, pulling the blankets of her bed over her and then himself. Emma turned to face him, a curious expression on her face.

"You've really been with no other woman?" Emma enquired with furrowed brow. "Even in a partial sense?"

"Nope," he answered. "Just a kiss from a barmaid who was a lot more drunk than I was."

That made Emma more happy than she could express, and she didn't even question herself when she sidled closer, "So…does that mean we're…_exclusive_."

"You haven't had anyone either?" Killian seemed genuinely surprised. "I mean, it's been five months. I could've been dead and I mean, it was one time…" She shut him up with another kiss.

"It doesn't have to be one time," she answered against his lips, fingers coming up to trace his collarbone nervously. She'd never done this before but…truly. She had spent five months with nothing but him on her mind. "It can be every time."

"I don't know when I'll be back, love," he answered softly, his nose brushing her nose as his fingers caught her hair. "I can't expect you to wait for me…"

"I want to," she replied, eyes wide and honest as her lips found his chin, nipping it lightly, next his neck, where she kissed the mark she'd already left there. "I marked you. You're mine."

"I would happily be yours, Emma Swan," Killian whispered as she looked up at him with wide happy eyes. "So does this make you my lady?"

"I think so," she said softly with a smile and Killian gave a happy laugh, turning her over as she threw her arms around him. She wasn't sure why it was so important, only that it felt nice to belong to him. She had hated other men who had expectations, but the fact that he had proven it… after all, the man practically screamed virgin. A fast learning virgin, but still.

There was something about him that made her want to _try_. She wanted him over and over again. Maybe she even wanted him to stay, but that was beyond both of their control.

They kissed for a little while longer, wrapped up in each other beneath the heat of the fire and the warmth rolling off each other skin before finally settling against each other. Emma smiled as she felt his scent surrounding her.

"When was the last time a man bedded you like this, my Swan?" Killian whispered, his breath sending goosebumps down her arms as he held her to him, his front to her back.

_Never._

She didn't answer. But despite that, she knew that he knew her response already.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey everyone! I just wanna thank each and every one of you for your follows and favourites and reviews (love my reviewers *kisses*)

This chapter has less smut. Next one though...

Enjoy! :) xx

* * *

**_Chapter Three: _**_The Wordsmith and the Novice_

* * *

**February**

_Dearest Swan,_

_The harbor is being built as I write this letter to you. My cabin overlooks the sea on one side, and the forest on the other. The waves crash below me on the shore and it is almost a dream state. We are here guarding the builders for two weeks more before we will continue East back home to receive our next assignment – I pray it will be quick to I can take my leave and see your gorgeous face once more._

_I dream of you every night, my lady. Your gorgeous figure pulls me unto deep slumber where I can touch every inch of your skin and worship your form. A place where you writhe against me and breathe my name in that musical moan…_

_But I awaken, gasping for you and aroused despite your absence and I have to bring myself to completion imagining that it is your hand or the heaven that lies between your legs._

_My brother, my captain, is pretending that he studied architecture at university the way he goes about altering the plans. I suppose, it comes with being in the king's favour – a head that big. You are my respite. These moments I take to write to you are the only moments I have of rest. I train with my brother, and I assist in the building of the docks. The settlement is growing; there's even a small township being built. I'll bring you here one day and you'll see the same view I do._

_In the meantime, I'll have to let my dreams be enough. Or perchance, you could write me in return?_

_Yours,_

_Killian_

* * *

Emma could only imagine the things he wrote about in his letter – the landscapes and the scenarios. The dreams however, she could sympathise with those. And that last sentence…he wanted her to write to him!

"I've never written before," Emma's eyes widened as she breathed that out. "Shit. What am I supposed to do?! I can read but I've never written…"

"It can't be that hard," Ruby answered, snatching it from her as Emma leapt after her in reaction. No! Her and Ruby were close but Killian's expression of his more carnal desires wasn't exactly town newsletter material. "Ooh, I bet he _likes_ it hard," Ruby commented, raising her eyebrow at her with a smirk before throwing the paper back towards her. "I'll help you."

"You know how to write?!" Emma cried out, jumping to her feet.

"I know how to hold a quill," Ruby answered, a slight scoff in her voice, "Your nerdy brain can do the rest."

It took Ruby almost twenty minutes to teach her how to hold a quill. After that, it was trying to find a way to make her writing legible. In the end, it ended up large and shaky, but there weren't too many splotches anywhere. At least there were definitive words on the page. Words she hoped he appreciated...

* * *

**April**

_Killian,_

_I think of you all the time. Unlike you, I don't have a __pretty view to look at. Unless you count the old men that come in every night and hit on me and Ruby. Which, obviously, I don't because…ew. _

_I don't know if you know, but this is the first thing I've ever written. I'm an apt reader but writing is another story. I hope you do this any chance you get because I can't stand months apart from you. Your dreams are as vivid as mine with the same result. I need you. Take your leave now so that I can have you at my leisure. I want you, Killian. Now._

_But I suppose your pretty words will have to do for the time being, and pretty they are most definitely. I can almost picture your hand forming such beautiful script (please excuse mine, this is my first time holding a quill)._

_The drawing you sent me is upon display beside my bed. _

_If you think of me, remember that I'm bored out of my brain and make sure you send me a book along with your picture next time. In the meantime, I'll try and learn how to paint so that I can give your memory a little bit of aid._

_I miss you and I'm thinking of you._

_Your lady,_

_Emma_

* * *

"KILLIAN!" Liam's voice was yelling into his particularly wondrous dream. He was satisfied to ignore him until he was hit by a massive ball of clothing. "Get dressed now you idiot. Blackbeard's been spotted off the coast and we need to capture him. Erais has been wanting his head for years. Also, this came for you with the latest shipment of goods."

Just as Killian had thrown his clothes aside, he was hit in the forehead by the corner of an envelope that left a small indent in his skin. Rubbing at the mark profusely, he turned the paper over in his hands. Reading the address was hard enough, but tearing it open as he stood up, multitasking curiously, he found himself staring at barely legible handwriting and it wasn't until he read the first line that he realized who was writing to him and practically leapt into his clothing in record speed so that he could read the letter on the way down to the dock.

He smiled when he read her words, already forming his reply in his head. But as he crossed the gangway, he heard the voice of Lieutenant Chalmers crying out, "Ooh. Look at Killy's smile. Did a lass send you a pretty picture, then, Jones?"

"No," he answered, eyes shooting upwards quickly as a blush crossed his face. Maybe she hadn't sent him a picture, but her words were promising enough. Aye, despite his want for her, he couldn't let her send that. What would happen if it fell into _others_ hands.

"Sure," Chalmers continued knowingly with a smirk. "It's definitely not that pretty woman from that tavern." He tapped his nose secretively just as Liam came down from the upper deck.

"What's this Killian?" Liam enquired, a furrow in his brow. "A bar wench?"

"Er, just a lass I met when we stopped in Arenai," Killian shrugged. He felt bad brushing Emma off, but Liam was a man of extreme propriety and he simply wouldn't understand.

"Met or cavorted with?" Liam continued disapprovingly. At this time, Chalmers decided to stealthily butt out of the conversation, leaving Liam to reprimand his brother.

"Brother, you know me," Killian replied, feigning hurt.

"Aye, I do, Killian," Liam answered with knowing eyes, "And you're lying."

Killian's face fell as Liam's eyes grew disappointed. "I thought you might last longer against the pressures, but I suppose we all cave at some point. A ship full of men for months on end isn't exactly the most riveting of companionship to hold."

"Do you mean…you've…" Killian's eyes widened. Here he was thinking his brother was completely chaste when he was just like any other red-blooded male. Maybe one day he'd share his past – because Killian knew that he didn't venture beyond the ship whenever they were in port.

Unless the ladies were going to him…

"Enjoy your dalliance while it lasts, little brother," his Captain said with a fond smile, patting him on the shoulder. "But don't lose your heart while you're at it."

Wise words.

Killian just wasn't sure he'd be able to heed them.

* * *

**May**

_Killian,_

_You haven't written to me in a while. I pray everything is well and that you are safe. The inn is flourishing – as is the hayfever, but then again it is Spring. My nose is red and itchy and I look a horrible mess…which I probably shouldn't have told you, but I'm sure you get sick too. I used to get sick a lot when I was little. Tea. Tea is fantastic for it. With honey and lemon. And then when I get better I always have hot chocolate with cinnamon. But we're out of cinnamon which is quite saddening._

_Find me some on your adventures? Then I can introduce you to my wonderful treat. And yes. That was an innuendo. _

_Yours,_

_Emma._

* * *

"Stop moaning, Killian!" Liam ordered as he hovered above his brother pressing down harshly on the wound in his side. "You're a bloody wimp. Here, bite down on this." A piece of cloth was shoved into his mouth as someone grabbed a cask of wine and began to pour it over his open wound.

_Next time I'll bloody let you get your innards cut out, brother,_ Killian responded, his thoughts angry in order to combat the pain that was emanating from the split in his side through most of his abdomen. They'd underestimated the stupid pirate, Blackbeard. There they were, thinking they had the upper hand, when he'd begun to duel Liam. An idiot could've seen Captain Jones was _not_ going to win that battle.

So Killian, being the complete imbecile he was, had jumped in to save his brother from a fatal blow. And yes, he had managed to disarm Blackbeard who they now had in custody, but in the meantime, he had gained a severe severing of his insides.

"Wrap him up," Liam ordered, "We'll need to get off at the next port. Where are we headed Chalmers?"

"Arenai, Captain – one day west."

"Arenai it is," Liam answered, looking down at Killian fading consciousness with a knowing gaze. "Seems like you'll get to see your lady sooner than you thought, brother."

If that had have computed with his addled brain, he would have smiled. Instead, he groaned in pain before unconsciousness took him into its darkened grasp.

* * *

Emma was just cutting up the ingredients for Granny's soup when she heard the sound of someone knocking on the door. They weren't quite open yet, but it didn't sound like a customer. In fact, it sounded like someone with an accent like Killian's.

Quickly, she wiped her carrot covered fingers on her apron and curiously opened the window.

"Hello?" she enquired of the puffed man.

"Milady, should you know where the nearest apothecary is?"

"It's down the road…she's not there," Emma groaned, realizing. The old lady had gone on her monthly herb gathering spree. And in that event, Emma new who was the back-up.

"I'll be back in ten minutes Granny," she yelled towards the kitchen. "There's an injury."

"Don't kill the poor bastard!" the old lady responded and Emma watched the man's face falter before reassuring him.

"I know what I'm doing," Emma answered, walking swiftly towards the end of the street. She pointed to a small thatched cottage saying, "Bring your injured there. It is serious?"

"Quite," he answered worriedly. "Stab wound."

"Very well," Emma answered, biting down the worry that surged in her. "Hurry."

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

Emma's mantra ran through her head repeatedly as she sprinted to the apothecary, grabbing down the necessary herbs and concoctions that she would need. Just as she was pulling down bandages from a completely unnecessary height, there was a loud bang – the door being swung open – and a pile of sweaty men carrying the injured inside.

One glance at him and Emma almost fainted.

"Killian?" she breathed in disbelief. "No no…you can't…fuck."

He was out of it. His head lolling from side to side, covered in dried blood, sweat and grime. And his side. Good gods, his side. After four months, she was not expecting to see him like this.

"Get out," Emma ordered. "All of you! He needs air and I need to work."

They didn't hesitate to leave him there, undoubtedly quite a few of them recognized her, but there was one who stayed lingering behind, eyeing Killian worriedly and Emma warily. As she grabbed the agrimony concoction off the bench, she couldn't bring herself to kick him out. One glance and she could see that he was both the Captain and Killian's brother.

Boiling water straight off the mark, she went to clean away his blood with water and she realized it wasn't as bad as it seemed. But Killian was still out of it, his body burning with fever and the blood still flowing slowly. She scooped the green paste onto the wound, realizing as she did that he would need stitches – and that was easy enough – but getting the fever down…

Yarrow.

Scrambling for the plant, she ground it into a fine dust upon the bench, muttering as she did, "You could fetch me a needle and thread – sterilize the needle."

"Aye, milady," she heard the man's voice answer. Emma fuelled all her frustration into the motion of grinding the yarrow, trying not to look at Killian's almost lifeless body. So many months not hearing from him and now…

Mixing the hot water with the yarrow, Emma brought it over to Killian, realizing as she did that he was stirring awake. Without preempt, she ordered, "Killian, swallow," and put the bowl to his lips. He groaned as the warm water trickled down his throat before coughing loudly, hands flying to the pained wound that Emma jumped to protect from his hands. Liam was at her side in a moment with the needle and thread.

"Thanks," Emma said quickly, maneuvering the folds of skin until they were able to be stitched.

"You don't want to knock him out?" Liam enquired worriedly as Emma knotted the string. She would've preferred to, but it was terrible for one's health.

"He'll black out if it hurts to much, but I don't think he can differentiate between the pain he's feeling and a pinprick."

Her stitches were small and neat, ten of them in a row down his side before she tied off the end and stepped away, once more cleaning his side before requesting the Captain help her in bandaging Killian around his body.

"I didn't ask you your name," Emma commented as she wound the material around Killian.

"Liam," he answered simply as they put Killian back down slowly. "And you are…"

"Emma," Killian groaned, rolling his head at the sound of her voice, "Is that you? Am I…I am…"

"You're not dead dimwit," Emma answered, breathing a sigh of relief as she felt his fever breaking over his forehead. She gave a breath of happy laughter as she placed her lips to his sweating forehead. "Thank Gods."

"Did a house fall on my body?" Killian breathed, his voice crusty and disused. Emma rubbed her fingertips into his shoulder gently.

"Nope she answered softly, "Is the pain really bad?"

"I've had worse, love," he murmured at a whisper, "Care to make it better?"

Emma leant down to whisper in his ear, a soft blush on her face, "Your brother's here."

"Liam?" Killian enquired, opening his eyes slightly to search for his brother.

The man in question was eyeing Emma with a vague disgust upon his face. It appeared he'd finally realized who exactly Emma was to Killian and he definitely did _not _approve.

Why did that hurt so much?

"I'll erm…I'll leave you two alone…" Emma said, grabbing a towel and wiping her hands of Killian's blood. "I'll be back later to erm, give finish up. He should sleep…"

And she was out the door within a few seconds, Killian's blood on her hands and an incredibly heavy heart inside of her chest.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Liam's not as bad as we think he is guys. He'll come round, I promise. Not quite yet though. :P

Thank you all so much! I cannot express how much your support means for this. :) xx

* * *

_**Chapter Four: **The Healer and the Wounded_

* * *

Liam was gone when Emma came back to clean up the apothecary after first having cleaned up herself. Chalmers was watching over Killian – at least _he_ gave her a smile when she entered.

"How long are you here for?" Emma enquired as she began to clear away everything.

"Only a few days, we have a prisoner to get back to the east," Chalmers said, from his perch on the stool. Emma sighed – no time with Killian then. They were back to letters.

Killian stirred behind her as she finished up cleaning. Wiping her wet hands on her clean apron, she went straight to his side as he rolled his head.

"Welcome back, mate," Chalmers said cheerfully, "This lass has fixed you up good and proper. We owe her a debt of gratitude."

"Mmm, oh, yes," he turned to give Emma a slow smile. "Hello again, love."

"Here," she said quickly, grabbing a cup of water from the fresh pail she'd brought in. "Drink, you need it."

She pulled him up just enough for him to be able to swallow and not choke, Chalmers, surprisingly giving them a little distance.

"Don't do that to me again, okay?" Emma ordered as she laid him back down. Putting the cup back, she felt his hand reaching for hers and gratefully slid her fingers through his, rubbing her thumb delicately along his.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a pained smile. "Since when are you a healer?"

"Since I get bored," she answered with a teasing smile, wiping his hair from his sweaty brow, "We can't all be swashbuckling privateers. Someone has to patch you up."

"Mmm," he agreed. "I've missed you."

"I'm er, going to leave you two alone…" Chalmers said, heading towards the door, shooting them both a wink. "I won't be far, and I won't tell Liam."

"Cheers, mate," Killian called out after him, before turning to Emma with a contented smile, "I thought we'd never be left alone."

"You're looking better," Emma said to him, giving him a once over just to make sure. "Remarkably so."

"I had someone good looking after me," he answered, "Perhaps no, we could clean me up a little bit."

"No over-exertion!" Emma replied sharply, hitting him lightly on the head. "Geez – you almost got stabbed and your already thinking of that stuff."

"It's not like you weren't too," he sighed. "And it doesn't have to be over exertion – ah!" Emma pressed his sternum about 15 centimetres away from the wound, watching him flinch in pain.

"Perfectly fine," she said sarcastically, moving away. "If you're well enough to be suggestive, you're well enough to bathe yourself."

"Swan…" he groaned. "It's been four months and I'm injured. Don't I deserve some sympathy?"

"You only wrote me once," she murmured bitterly, moving to go and get some more water from the well. She was out the door and back within two minutes, pouring the water into a cauldron which she dutifully heated over the fire. She wasn't that annoyed at him, more just at the world – and Liam – for disapproving.

"I'm sorry, love," he answered softly, struggling to get up behind her. And despite saying that he could do it on his own, she went to help him anyway. Her hands slid over his back, feeling scars she hadn't felt last time as she they both pushed Killian upright. Swinging around, he groaned on the edge of the bench, "Hurts like the devil."

Emma took pity on him, leaning down and placing a feather-light kiss to his bandages. "Better?" she enquired, straightening to look at him, almost hitting him in the nose as he darted forward to kiss her.

He tasted a little like yarrow, but still, she couldn't deny the warmth that seeped through her when his lips hit hers. And when he tangled his tongue with hers, she could imagine that that he wasn't wounded at all – and that at any second, he would throw her onto the bench and make good on his written promises.

Alas, she had to pull away, watching his dazed face as his mouth formed a soft, "Hello."

"Hello," Emma chuckled. "Alright, bath time."

"About time," he muttered behind her, hopping off the bench with a hiss of pain, but following Emma over to where she was pouring hot and cold water into the bathtub. She turned around to let him take his pants off, and he scoffed at her. "It's nothing you haven't seen before," he breathed. Emma wasn't sure why she was refraining from looking at him, only that she was. And as she heard the water splash behind her, pulling her from her reverie, it was almost like the bucket had been dumped over her head.

She feared Liam.

She feared his influence over Killian. The fact that at, any second, his brother's words could tear him away. That the letters would stop. That he'd meet a woman in some other port…

Wasn't it easier to simply save herself the trouble.

"Emma…" Killian sung her voice beckoningly, trying to lull her towards him and for a moment she ignored him. But a quick thought of his naked body flushing through her mind made her sigh and turn around, almost relishing in the way the water was dripping down his chest.

"No!" she said, holding up her finger in warning, but not moving her eyes. She could observe, she just couldn't touch.

"Emma," he pouted.

"When you're better," she promised, "And we can actually do something that constitutes as not painful."

"But I want you now," he answered, pouting at her from his bathtub and Emma couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous he looked.

"Clean yourself," she ordered. "Don't touch the bandages and I'll be back in a second."

Shutting the door behind her to his protests, she found Chalmers loitering outside, a cigar between his fingers as he puffed out a cloud.

"Little bit of a rebel, Chalmers," Emma commented, folding her arms and leaning against the wall, trying to breath in some fresh air around the smoke.

"Have to do it ashore, else the captain catch me," he answered with a conspiratory grin. "Keep it under wraps and I won't tell Liam about your dalliance with young Jones."

"He knows already," Emma answered with a sigh, looking up at the older man, "He doesn't like me."

"Understandable," Chalmers shrugged, "You've corrupted his younger brother within his first year of servitude. I doubt Liam thought Killian would crumble that quickly. And so, it's not you he hates. He's just angry with himself for letting Killian grow up so fast."

"He's not that young!" Emma answered, realizing as she did that she'd never actually asked him how old he was.

"Boy just became a man a year ago," Chalmers shrugged. "He's still a baby to his older brother. And the Captain wants him to make a good marriage back in Erais. Work his way up in the ranks and whatnot."

"And the barmaid from Arenai doesn't fit into that picture," Emma nodded in realization. "Of course, I don't."

_She wasn't good enough for him._

It had been a fleeting thought in her mind that hadn't held much ground before. Why would she even care? It wasn't like they were anything more than each other's bed warmers – when it was possible. After all, they'd only seen each other twice in a year. And the rest of the time she was abstaining…for what? For him to make a good marriage one day and never come back.

"I'll be at the inn," she finally sighed, "Are you guys sticking around for the night?"

"Killian could probably use a room, the rest of us will be on the ship."

"And Liam's going to entrust him to me, why?" Emma scoffed.

"Because I say so," Chalmers answered. "Trust me."

"Fine," she sighed, walking back down the street towards the inn. Granny was just getting dinner together, and Ruby was opening the door for customers as dusk set in around them. They could both see Emma was in a hell of a mood, so they didn't bother her too much. Ruby served and Emma poured the drinks because with Emma's sour face, she'd most likely scare away all the customers.

Even when she heard Granny talking with Chalmers out back concerning a room in the inn, her face didn't change. It wasn't like Liam would let her within five metres of him anyway.

"You don't want to go see your man?" Ruby enquired, a frown upon her face as she came up beside Emma. Her blonde hair was shielding Ruby from seeing the tears beading in her eyes as she realized, yes, she did want him. Right now – and a lot more than right now – things that Liam was pulling away from her.

_But Liam wasn't Killian._

And if Killian still wanted her, if she wanted him, she would go after him. It was what she'd always done. She wasn't about to let some tight-ass Captain who plainly needed to get laid stand in her way.

So she wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up at Ruby with a sad determination. "I do."

"Then go," Ruby shooed her, "The rest of the crew is upstairs. He took the only downstairs room, so you have privacy."

Emma's brow furrowed as a small smile played at the corner of her lips, "Was that intentional?"

"Of course," Ruby answered with a wink, taking the tea towel out of Emma's hands and proceeding to whip her behind with it, "Get going."

Emma chuckled and skipped out the back door. But rather than heading upstairs to her room, she rounded the corner finding Killian's door slightly ajar as voices escaped into the hallway.

"…he can't possibly think that. I've never even hinted…" Killian was saying.

"She looks at you like you are her world, Killian," Chalmers answered. "And Liam knows as well as you or I, that things like this never last. You have a life ahead of you. And I don't want to hurt the girl, but you're falling hard mate. End it before it goes any further."

They fell into silence as Emma felt that wave of cold flood her again. No. She was doing this. And she wanted to make them see that she could be…After all, they knew now, she wasn't just a barmaid. If this was anywhere else, she could be a healer. A renowned healer probably. But this was circumstance and hiding. She couldn't be anywhere else.

By Chalmers and Liam Jones' standing, she could probably never be anything.

Emma barely heard the footsteps approaching the door before she was facing a tired looking Lieutenant Chalmers, who jolted in surprise upon seeing her figure in the dark hallway.

"We'll clear out for the night," he promised, "Erm. I'm sorry."

Emma nodded, slipping into Killian's room and shutting the door, closing it as she leaned into it; locking it as she sighed, "Fuck them."

"What?"

Killian's voice came from the bed, a permanent crease in his forehead as Emma turned around forcefully, her skirt twirling with the force she used to cross the room and get to him.

"Fuck them," she said strongly, her voice full of passion. "Do you want to be with me?"

"Yes," Killian answered, eyes blinking, "Of course I do."

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"No, not at all," he answered honestly, reaching for her, "Emma your skills are unparalleled. Our medic passed on and if it wasn't for you I'd be bleeding out in an empty apothecary."

"But everyone is still against us," Emma answered simply. In return he held out his hand. She knew he couldn't move far, so it was with tenderness that she held onto it, his larger hand wrapping around her smaller one.

"Come here," he said softly, his voice washing over her, calming her despite everything she was worried over. It was him and her – and the were always good together.

Emma's body seemed to fit easily alongside his. Tucked against the side that wasn't injured, she rested her head upon his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his body filling her from the inside out. She hated him being away, but when he was here…

Turning her head, she placed a delicate kiss to his chest, her hand moving up to rub against his muscles. His body vibrated against her as he spoke.

"My brother is an arse," he began. "He comes from a good place, really, but he's a hypocrite. He seems to forget that we were lucky to get into the naval academy coming from nothing – and that many people out there who did the things we did are now buried six feet under ground for their crimes."

"Survival," Emma mused, "We did what we had to."

"And now," Killian answered, his fingers threading through her blonde hair that fell about her shoulders, "I do what I have to do – I make a living and I serve the king who got me out of there, just as you make a living and love the woman who took you in off the streets."

"We aren't so different," Emma breathed, a flood of affection for the man beside her spilling throughout her. How he could do that with simple words was beyond her.

"We aren't," he answered honestly, as she craned her head to look at him. "Which is why I'm not going to heed their instructions, my lady. I don't want to let you go. I'm yours as long as you'll have me."

"You'll be here a while then, Officer Jones," Emma grinned, leaning up to rub her nose against his.

"I wish that were so," he sighed, his breath dusting her lips. Just as she was about to kiss him, she found herself asking and dreading the answer:

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow," he responded, his voice cracking slightly, "Blackbeard. We have to get him to Erais and my injury has already cut three days into our journey."

There was silence for a moment, nothing sounding but the crackle of the fire upon the hearth.

"But you'll write, still, yeah?" Emma breathed pleadingly.

"Every week," he answered, brushing his hand against her face with a lazy grin, "Wouldn't want you to miss me too much."

"I miss you every night," Emma admitted, leaning down once more to brush her lips against his. She couldn't help herself, leaning into him and drowning in his kiss. Maybe he couldn't move his body but his lips – those he could most definitely move.

His hand was woven through her hair, tugging her forward as they mashed their mouths together in a flurry of tongues and teeth. He was trying to devour her, and her, him. Emma didn't even realize she was grinding against his side, her body needing every bit of closeness she could find, until she heard him hiss in pain as her hand skimmed a little too close to the edge of his bandaged wound.

"Sorry," she breathed, automatically flinching with his pain, drawing away immediately to prevent further damage. But his hand around her wrist stopped her from leaving the bed. "No," he ordered, blue eyes flashing. "I need you."

It was only then that Emma saw the darkness in his eyes and the bulge rising beneath the sheet. He was _supposed_ to avoid physical exertion.

"You'll pull the stitches," Emma warned him, berating him even as her eyes flickered over his half-naked body thinking of easier ways to pleasure him.

"Emma," he groaned, head falling back into the pillows. Eye peeking open cheekily as he continued, "Well maybe that means I can stay longer."

She laughed as he tugged her forward. Their lips collided once more as her hands traversed his body, drawing patterns over his chest past the bandages, digging onto the skin. She couldn't raise his blood flow, so unfortunately, what she wanted was out of the question.

So she pulled away from him with a sigh, slipping beneath covers and tucking herself into his side once again.

"When you're better, okay?" Emma said, kissing his chest lightly as his arm tightened around her, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin. As they both calmed themselves. Rest wouldn't come easy to them, and they ended up talking late into the night until his voice slurred and he dropped off mid-sentence into sleep.

So she smiled. And placed her head upon the pillow beside his, finding comfort in the solidarity that this moment brought.

* * *

"Killian…"

A soft moan stirred him from his dreams, warm breath upon his face. He felt a smile pull his lips upwards as he peeked through his left eye to see the sleeping from of Emma beside him. His heart stuttered at the sight of her in the morning light, the sunlight filtering upon her figure.

"Please…" she moaned again, and Killian realized she was still dreaming. Of him. Of him…and her…

"More," she breathed, her hand tightening on the blankets bunched over his chest. "Oh gods, please."

_What on earth had possessed her to move like that against him. _

Gods, he wasn't supposed to exert energy but she was making him aroused by the sounds she was making, a fire spurring through his veins.

Well if he couldn't get himself off, he was damn well going to make sure that she did.

He was still a little tender on his right side, but that didn't stop him from letting his left hand slip down her body, tracing her curves with his fingertips. She must have removed her stripped down to her dress sometime during the night, because when he reached for the material gathered around her thighs, there was nothing between him and her except for her panties which he realized were soaking wet with a single touch.

He slipped his fingers beneath them, stroking at her wet folds and searching out her little nub of pleasure.

A happy mewl echoed by his ear, followed by a gasp as he slipped his fingers inside of her tight wet channel. As he stroked her inner walls, he felt her body seize up, and turning to face her, he found her eyes staring widely at him, pupils dilated with lust.

"Morning," Killian whispered, leaning forward to capture her lips in a kiss that she returned wholeheartedly, her lower half moving fluidly against his hand as she rode his fingers in search of pleasure. "Good dream?" he asked finally when she pulled away to gasp in a breath, his fingers curling in a way that made her squeal in surprise and intense pleasure.

"Right there," she groaned, her hands reaching for his neck, pulling him in close to her, foreheads touching. "I dreamed…"  
"Tell me, love."

"Your mouth…" she breathed, eyes flicking down to his lips, "You were using your mouth."

"My mouth…oh." His confused expression changed in realization, that adorable innocence seeping in once again as a hot flush crept across his cheeks. "You want me to use my mouth."

"Not if you don't want to," she said in response between panting. "You're doing a good job on your own."

His fingers were out of her in a second, and he heard her groan of disappointment, but ignored it in favour of doing what she actually wanted. After all, she was his one and only teacher.

"Underwear off," he said, inclining his head before watching her scramble upwards until her back was on the wooden headboard. He managed to roll over with ease, favouring his right side as he reached for her legs, sliding his hands up towards the wet haven before him. Nervously, he licked his lips before chancing one final glance at her. Emma's eager expression was all it took for him to dart his tongue out and lick through her folds.

She cried out when he circled her clit, just as he had done with his fingers, and he felt a surge of pride fill him that he could do such things to her. Blood rushed south with every sound she made and he tried to ignore his need, but gods she tasted heavenly.

His finger came into play then, pushing into her just like she loved. Two, then three, stretching her and thrusting deep as he curled against the point that would make her go crazy with a deepseated pleasure.

He sucked and licked at a differentiating pace, letting the growing moans spilling from Emma's mouth lead him on. The words that came with them grew louder as she began to clench her muscles against his sides.

"Killian," she groaned, "Fuck, I'm…"

He felt her walls clenching around his fingers, and didn't stop, relentless in his pursuits to make it last. His eyes found hers in the height of pleasure, fixated upon each other as he devoured the product of her release, cleaning her before pulling away.

She bent down to kiss him, clearly not caring that her essence still painted his lips.

"Are you hurting?" she whispered breathlessly, fingers tracing over the bandage.

"Surprisingly, no," he answered huskily, with a smirk, "You must be a miracle worker, love."

"On your back, then," Emma answered, as he rolled himself over. She moved to straddle his legs, throwing her dress over her head as she did, leaving herself gloriously naked for his eyes to feast on.

"My turn," she grinned slyly, grasping his erection in her hand before lowering her mouth to where he was so desperate for her it was paining him. And when her lips connected he couldn't help but groan in pleasure, thinking of the new dreams he'd be having on the next trip…

_Bloody Hell._


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: *Happy Dance* Love you all! Thank you so much for the reviews! There's a little back story this chapter and smut of course, and a lot more next chapter (in which comes the angst my dear CSers).

xx

* * *

_**Chapter Five: **The Siren and the Slave_

* * *

**June**

* * *

_Swan,_

_I yearn for you._

_It may have only been a week, but I miss you so much. Your warmth, your smile, your skill. Two months from now I will be with you. Pack your things. We're going for a holiday where I will spend every day kissing your body and doing things I can't even say. I will devour you in every way humanly possible._

_Think of me,_

_Killian._

* * *

Killian Jones,

You bastard. You've made me little more than a simpering tween. Let it be two months away already. I long to have you near.

People are gathering in these parts for the Summer Solstice Festival which is making it a little harder to keep patrolling since King George is sending out soldiers to patrol and gather taxes since all the hubub's about.

I'm a little scared. But then again, I get kind of scared every year. Now's the time when I when I have to fight off the men staring at me. I'm kind of glad you can't see me to be honest. I take to raiding Granny's closet and even that doesn't dissuade anyone.

Don't worry your handsome face though, I'm waiting for you ever so patiently.

Emma.

* * *

_Dearest Swan,_

_You must keep your face hidden? Whatever do you mean by that, love? Your face is beautiful and perhaps I do wish to covet you, but that is a pain I would not dare inflict upon the world._

_Things are well. Erais has commended the capture of Blackbeard and he's on trial tomorrow for his crimes. We are here for two days before we head off seeing to the colonies in the south. Then I shall be with you._

_My brother is coming around, I think. He seemed happy when I didn't partake in the same celebratory activities as the crew. Then again he also tried to introduce me to the ladies of court and I assure you I bore them no more attention than pleasantries. My mind's eye is fixated only upon you. _

_It is hard, to be so far away, maintaining contact only be letter. But I fear, it is all we shall have for a while. And so, there is much to be said. And I will say it. My life in letters, for your eyes only._

_Ask away, dear one, I promise only truth._

_Yours,_

_Killian._

* * *

Killian,

If you shall give me truth, I owe you the same.

I suppose I thought you knew. I told you I lived on the streets, and I had to steal to survive. I got caught on more than one occasion and by the time I was twelve, it was cause for Wanted posters. I was old enough to be trialled and punished. But I was good at running away. Until one day a soldier found me…

And maybe this story is better told face to face. But, I think when we're face to face we burn with too much lust for very much else to happen. Anyway, he was bigger than me, and stronger and he was going to…attack me…in that way.

And he almost did, were in not for the arrow that Granny shot to his shoulder. And the threats that the healer gave him as she twisted the arrow in his flesh.

That was when Granny took me in. The Wanted posters gradually were replaced over time, but I can't risk it.

I'm sorry, I thought you knew and you didn't care. I should've said something earlier. Please don't hate me for it. I'm not…I'll understand if it's too much to be in contact with me.

Emma

* * *

**July**

* * *

_Emma,_

_Don't you dare think that way. I stole, maybe I didn't get caught. Maybe my brother and I were found by someone a lot more privileged who sent us to the Naval Academy. But that does not for a second mean that I would not want you._

_You are so strong. I can't believe you let me anywhere near you after what happened to you. You are strong and beautiful._

_Liam and I, our mother died a few months after I was born. And then our father was a criminal who skipped out in the middle of the night. So I guess, all my life all I've had is him. I understand why you're edgy when I talk about him because honestly, he can be an absolute prat, but he's a good man. He's getting married, you know. I used to think he was hiding a woman, turns out he was hiding a lady. One of the daughters of the man who took us off the streets. I always thought there was something there. _

_After our holiday, if you wish it, I will bring you here to attend the wedding with me. I want to see you glorious in the autumn light surrounded by falling leaves. I will kiss you and make love to you. Write me soon. _

_Love,_

_Killian_

* * *

Killian,

I still don't like Liam, but that does portray a wonderful faraway image. I can't help it, but I doubt it. Your face seems so far away…

Anyway, I don't know who my parents are. I can't remember anymore. I just know that I was five when I woke up on the side of the road, a necklace with the words 'Happy Fifth Birthday Emma, love Mom and Dad.' So, something must have happened to them. Or I was just left behind – abandoned. Because no one ever came back for me.

But that's a sad story and I want to speak of happy things. I have an amazing family here with Ruby and Granny and Graham. The festival is beginning. The nights are long and the music most joyous. I dance every night and wish it were you spinning me around with ribbons. When we go away, can we dance? I want to dance with you.

Emma

* * *

_Emma,_

_I imagine we _will_ dance. And laugh. And sing. _

_It is no dream, Swan. I have been promised a promotion within the year. It is unheard of, such a thing. But Chalmers has put in a good word for me, and has expressed his own interests to the King in commanding his own ship._

_Me? Imagine. A lieutenant! Probably still under my brother, but I've survived him thus far, what harm a few more years._

_And when I have that title dearest Swan, I will visit frequently. I will bend to your every wish and I will give you everything._

_But for now, all I ask is that you wear green ribbons in your hair. They'll match your eyes._

_All my love, _

_Killian._

_P.S. Who's Graham?_

* * *

Killian,

Why? Jealous?

Back when I was on the streets, he was in the same boat. He taught me how to pickpocket, and how to hunt. I can hunt, did you know that? But it was in the King's Forest, so that added to our list of misdemeanours. Only, he was never caught and so he gets to travel about freely. He's a more lawful hunter nowadays, as well as the handyman for what seems like the entirety of Arenai.

But he's a good friend – nothing more. Besides, you're much more handsome and extremely good in bed (Not that I've been in bed with him. Oh God, I'm just digging myself a larger hole).

Either way, I'm having fun and taking care of myself. Men seem to cower at the sight of me after I kneed one lecherous viper in a place that means he won't be procreating any time soon. I've gifted the world abundantly.

It's nearing August and I'm prepared.

So I hope you are too.

Emma

* * *

_Emma,_

_I'm on my way and the suspense is killing me. I cannot tell you how attractive it is to me that you can take care of yourself and that you desire none other than me. I won't deny the fact that I think I'm falling in love with you._

_One week._

_Yours,_

_Killian_

* * *

**_August_**

He could barely remember entering the establishment before Emma had grabbed his hand and dragged him up the small staircase, pushing him into her room and crushing her lips against his as though he was the very air she needed to breathe. Not that he was complaining.

He shoved her back against the wooden door with a loud bang. But if it hurt her, she didn't say anything, simply moaning as he attached his lips to her neck, his hands already searching for the ties of her bodice. He needed her desperately he thought he was going to die from it. He needed to feel her beneath him – to feel that she was real. Because time was short – two weeks was nothing. Who knew how long he'd be gone for next time?

"Can't wait," Emma groaned, her hands going directly for his pants, which was difficult since he was grinding against her so intimately, her body drawing him in like a moth to flame and he was going to burn but he didn't care. "I need you inside me."

"Gods, Emma," he groaned, his face a mask of need as he bit against the flesh of her cleavage. "You're a wanton woman."

"Yeah," she breathed, shoving his pants down his legs without preempt. And since she was so eager, Killian had no qualms with lifting her skirt, shoving down her stockings and panties in a large mess on the floor until she was hooking her leg around his waist and she was pushing herself onto his length, sliding into her warm and very wet channel with a loud groan.

"Fuck, Killian," she murmured, pulling him in for a messy kiss as she began to grind against him, as his hips thrust against her. His hands went to her hair, fingers threading through it and glorying in the smooth blonde locks that fell about her shoulders, framing her face that fell back, hitting the door loudly as he hit a spot that seemed particularly sensitive.

Her mewls were growing louder. And he kind of hoped that everyone downstairs could hear it. To know that this woman was _his_. That the sounds she was making, were what he did to her.

"Killian," she groaned through her pants, her hands tugging at his growing hair. Her eyes locked on his, her gaze filled with a fiery lust. "Gods, harder. Fuck me. Mark me."

Her words were like a whip, setting his skin ablaze with heat as her fingernails delved into the skin of his shoulders. He sped up his movements, feeling his muscles strain with the weight as she wrapped her legs around his hips. But it was a delicious strain that Killian felt throughout his body, travelling to where they were connected, his length ploughing into her with abandon as her body tensed before his eyes.

He pulled his hand from her hair to reach up under her skirt, finding where they were joined and letting his finger dance lightly over that spot that she found so pleasurable. Her mouth fell open, eyes falling shut as she breathed, "Please…"

And before the word was finished, she was coming.

Her nails drew red lines across his shoulders that he would relish for days, and the sound that came from her lips was like a siren's call. Emma didn't alert the world, but she gave a cry of desperate relief for his ears only that send him spiraling into his orgasm, pulling her in and riding them both through the pleasurable high as he listened to her whimper, his lips fastened to her skin as her did her bidding. Like a slave to her will, he marked her, and pulled away only when they had both slowed and were in danger of falling over from their exertions.

Killian let Emma down slowly, his hands wrapped around her waist to steady her as she looked up at him, her face flushed and beautiful.

"Hey," she panted with a tentative smile.

He kissed her sweet lips once more.

"Hey," he answered with a wide grin.

"What's that look for?" Emma enquired, curiously.

"Oh nothing," he answered with an easy shrug, "I just realized you unequivocally, body, soul and heart, own me."

Emma laughed, a resounding sound that warmed him to the bone, "You just realized that, Jones?"

"No," he said, stepping back and tugging her with him, finally moving to undress her fully. "I think I've known it all along."

"We've got two weeks," she reminded him. "I don't want you bailing on me halfway through because you realize I'm not –"

He kissed her again.

"You are everything I want, Emma Swan," he promised, staring at her through hooded blue eyes. "If you'll let me, I'd like to start making good on my promises."

And with a happy grin she answered, "It would be a pleasure."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Ergh. I hate writer's block. It's like, I want to write but English just says 'No me gusta'. So. Here y'are. Have some smut. We'll save the angst for next week when I'm back at work and feel angsty. And it'll hurt. And further progress le story. Thank you to every one who's reviewed or followed or reblogged I love you all! Mwah!

Enjoy! xx

* * *

_**Chapter Six: **The Gentlemen and his Lady _

* * *

Emma awoke to the feeling of fingers delicately flittering down her arm. Her senses were flooded by the scent of Killian enveloping her and the feel of his warm body beneath her. Her cheek rubbed against his chest hair, cat-like as she turned to look up at him.

"Morning beautiful," he breathed and leant down to press his lips to hers. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," she answered honestly, her back protesting as she stretched out over him, reaching her arms up to wrap around his neck as she rolled fully onto him, pointedly ignoring the hardness she felt against her hip.

"Shame," he murmured, his fingers tangling in her hair as he stared at it thoughtfully. "Our boat leaves this afternoon."

"Where are we going?" Emma enquired, enjoying the mystery of it all.

"An island just off the coast. It's a small one near that new settlement. I bought a small cabin for us."

"You bought?!" Emma's eyes widened as she shot up to stare at him closely. "Seriously?"

"Aye," he chuckled, fingers coming round to thumb over her chin. It tickled, but she was too astonished to care. "I did."

Emma kissed him – long and hard. Maybe it didn't matter that she was sore, maybe she could just take him slowly –

But he pulled away, his rough finger against her lips as he gazed at her in mock disapproval. "Nope. I want to spend two weeks with you and that won't happen if you're too pained to do anything."

She almost wanted to whine at him, but instead, she raised a brow, opening her mouth and sucking his finger into her mouth, her tongue laving over the digit as she wrapped her lips around it. She knew what she was doing to him.

"Emma –" His breath hitched and she grinned impishly as he shifted uncomfortably beneath her.

"Breakfast?" she asked, perking up. Rolling off of him, she landed with a refrained 'OW!' and tried to hide her limp.

"Minx," he muttered behind her. "What am I supposed to do about this?" Emma spun around to see him pulling down the shit around his hips. She turned away before she caught a glance, going to her closet to find a new dress as she called back to him.

"You've got a hand," she winked, grabbing a gown rather than corset to throw over her clothes as she exited the room with a shrug. "Use it."

* * *

"You took a while," Emma said, as he snuck up behind her, stealing a piece of apple off her plate. His breath blew over her ear as he whispered, "I'm not using my hand while you're around, lass. I had to wait to calm myself down…Good Morning Miss Lucas."

"Morning…" she answered, raising her eyebrows suggestively. Emma gave him her plate hurriedly before ushering him out of the room and back upstairs, not before Ruby yelled after her, "Don't break down the inn!"

Safe in her room, Emma found herself chuckling at her friend's antics, turning to find Killian seated at her small table with his plate of food in front of him. He waited for her to join him patiently, but she simply cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I have to say goodbye to everyone before we go," Emma began.

"It's two weeks, not a lifetime, love," he answered, standing up without a second thought, holding out his arms for hers. "Relax."

_Not a lifetime._

Was it bad that she wanted it to be? That when she bent into his hold, she wished it could be every day that she spent like this. But glancing up at his content face, blue eyes sparkling with the promise of adventure, she put her pleas aside.

"Okay," she smiled, sliding past him to reach for the food. "Let's eat."

The goodbyes were quick, Ruby's sage advice falling on deaf ears because nothing – absolutely nothing – was going to hinder her time with her man. Like a proper gentlemen, he offered her his arm, taking her bag from her and swinging it over his own shoulder with ease.

Sometimes, Emma missed the look of his uniform and how wonderfully it fit to his form. But not in that moment. His billowing white shirt as he leant over gave her a full view of his glorious chest and her mind ran wild with fantasies of what she could actually achieve over the next week.

Screw letters, she had him in the flesh.

They walked, synchronized, towards the dock where a passenger vessel was awaiting them. Killian chatted quickly with the owner who he apparently knew, chuckling between each other. Emma watched them for a moment before being absorbed by the definition of the ship. She'd never seen one up close and had no qualms with dropping onto the deck and holding her hands out, running them along the railings and netting as though trying to memorise them.

"Emma," Killian called, his voice almost as soothing as the water. Although, it was a little sharper than usual and she spun around.

"Ah, she is a beauty indeed, Jones," the man said with a kind smile. "My name is Lee Darcy, at your service."

"A pleasure to meet you," Emma said, unsure of what to say as the man bowed in front of her. Her eyes shot to Killian in confusion before he shrugged, tongue behind his teeth in a very smug grin. Emma tried to manage a small curtsey but she knew it was going to go wrong before it started. Despite the fact that Killian had been raised in high society, even the simplest of pleasantries were difficult for Emma to manage.

And so, when she went stumbling forward, it as with gratitude and annoyance that she looked up at Killian. His arm was tight on her arm, and he slid it down into her hand, fingers rubbing against her own in what she hoped was an attempt to apologise for her embarrassing moment. But either way, she simply shot him a dirty look and tried to ignore the sympathetic expression upon Lee Darcy's face.

"We'll go down below and let your crew cast off," Killian intervened quickly with a smile, hand worming from Emma's hand to around her waist as he guided her away from the man.

"I hate you," Emma breathed, still trying to rid the flush of embarrassment from her face.

"No you don't, love," he answered, turning his head to kiss her but catching her cheek instead. Emma ignored him and went ahead, leaving his arm behind and heading down below deck.

"How long is the journey?"

Emma's voice was stilted with indifference and she hoped he would leave it alone, but of course, he didn't. He came to kneel before her as she sank onto the small bunk.

"We'll arrive tomorrow morning," Killian answered with a frown upon his face. "Emma, did I do something wrong?"

"No," she answered too quickly, trying to pull her hands away from him.

"Do you not want to go or – "

"You could have told me your friend was a gentlemen," she whispered finally, still not looking at him. She felt stupid enough admitting it. It was like physically giving voice to her fears – something that had egged her own mind, even without the influence of others.

_She wasn't good enough for him_.

"Only as much as I am," Killiand answered, reaching up for her face, cupping her cheek, "Love, if that curtsey is what you're worried about…I've seen ladies in court stumble over their curtsies depending upon what shoes they're wearing. It isn't a big deal. Blame the deck if you will."

"But I'll still know the difference," Emma sighed, pulling away from his hand, her body seizing up in defence. "Look, I just…can you get me a drink?"

"A ploy to get rid of me, Swan?"

_He could see right through her._

"Just for a moment," she said with a quick glance upwards, eyes pleading with him as her hands fidgeted uneasily. "Please?"

Killian's expression was confused, but not hurt, and for that she was glad. And she used her moments alone to compose herself, to let those thoughts flee from her head so that she could allow him back in. Her own insecurities weren't going to ruin their time together. It was limited. Only thirteen days left…

* * *

"Put me down, Killian!"

Emma had almost had a heart attack when he leant down and swept her up into his arms, her skirt swinging in the breeze that swept against the side of the mountain. The small island was beautiful – his letters hadn't done it justice. She felt like she was in a completely different world.

But she still giggled when he carried her over the threshold; through laughter she said, "We aren't married, Killian!"

He put her down with a smirk and she almost missed the, "Yet", that he breathed. But before she could call him out on it, he was closing the door with his foot and pulling her forward by the waist, his lips attaching to hers with an urgent fervor. It had been an entire day of keeping his hands to himself in order to maintain propriety, and Emma had tried to break that control, her hands wandering to secret places ever so often.

So when she pulled away to latch her lips to his neck, she was smirking. Now that they were alone, she could have him. She left her shoes at the door and turned her attentions to him. Sucking and licking at his skin, she felt him groan loudly, his hands bunching her skirt as he slid his hands down her legs, latching them about his waist.

He carried her through the cottage as she continued to assault his neck rubbing her body against his until he tired of her fruitless attempts and dropped her, without any kind of gentleness, straight onto the beautifully made bed.

"I'd intended a romantic dinner, chocolates and flowers," Killian breathed as her hands went straight for his shirt, pulling it from his pants without any further enquiries. Emma almost laughed when he said that. Their desire for each other was too great – looks like his romantic ideals were going to have to wait.

Although, she was giddy with the thought. It was almost as though he was trying to woo her – like she needed wooing. She was the one dragging him down into the bed.

"Later," she groaned, watching him pulling the shirt over his head and smiling at him. Her hands ran up along his chest, covering the skin with her hands and feeling the muscles that lay beneath it. Her lips followed the contours of his body, tracing light scars and darker ones, smiling when she reached his ribs and whispering against his torso, "It healed well."

"Aye," Killian agreed, his hand weaving into her hair as he stared down at her with such a thankful and meaningful gaze that it made her gut twist. "That it did."

He bent to kiss her then, with such tenderness that she felt something so very deeply in her toes that she didn't want to put a name to.

"If I can't romantically give you dinner," Killian whispered, trailing his lips along her jaw and down her neck as his hands rapidly undid the ties of her bodice, "At least let me take this slow."

Emma let off a whine or protest that transformed into a gasp of pleasure as Killian tugged down her dress and latched his lips to her breast, his tongue laving over her nipple he closed his eyes. Emma groaned as she watched him, taking in her pleasure as his own. She could feel him through her skirts, his hardness pressing against her leg whilst her own arousal grew. She moved her hands to his laces in order to quickly pull them apart. Killian may want to take this slow, but she needed him too badly. When she was pushing them down past his hips, he seemed to get the idea, stepping backwards with a sly smile to pull his boots and pants off.

Emma felt her panties flooding with arousal at the smirk he was sending her way. Gods, that man could go from innocence to sin in the space of ten seconds.

And she loved it.

He inclined his head towards her, eyes gleaming in a non-verbal order. He was naked, and she should be too. It didn't take much. Since he'd already rid her of her bodice, her underdress fell away easily as she rolled her panties and stockings down until they were both bare before each other's eyes.

There was a moment's peace before Killian murmured, "I can't believe you're real," and crashed in on her, colliding with her as they fell backwards onto the bed, rolling over the fresh coverlet in needy motions.

When her lips tugged at his, drawing blood, he would thrust his hips against her, seeking some sort of relief before rolling her onto her back and calming her down with soft, feather light kisses all over her body. And then the cycle repeated until finally, he clasped her hands above her head, and with a dark and lustful gaze that bore all seriousness, he said.

"Emma, stop trying to rush me." He kissed her nose. Her lips. The hollow of her throat. "Let me make love to you."

And hearing that promise within his voice. Knowing that he had never let her down. She smiled encouragingly, and nodded.

He moved over her slowly, his fingers delving into her warmth familiarly, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt how positively soaked she was. She needed him. She'd needed him for a while now.

And when he aligned himself, pushing into her with a long drawn out groan, Emma felt something wash over her.

Love.

She felt loved.

Because he was looking at her like she was his whole world.

And maybe in that moment, she was. And as he began to move, she couldn't deny that she never wanted to leave the feeling of complete fullness that he gave her. The way his lips cherished her body, trailing up her arms as though they were the most divine of limbs drove her mad. The light touches of his roughened fingers to her sensitive legs made her crazy with want – only for him. Always for him.

He was pushing her slow – then fast – his breath coming in sharp pants as he whispered, "You feel so good, Emma."  
And she could only let out a nonsensical sound in response as he reared upwards on his hands, changing his angle and hitting her deep as she raised her legs about his hips. Her hands were grasping his shoulders tightly; red marks burning onto red marks as she reached for his hair. She needed something to cling to because she was so close. And if he kept hitting that spot she was going to…

"Are you there, love?" he whispered, voice sounding utterly broken. "I can feel you. You're ready."  
And she didn't hold back. When his finger danced over her clit and she felt herself coming, she screamed. She swore, and she cried out to her Gods, and she cried out to him – his name falling from her lips over and over again – and that was what brought on his release. He thrusted twice more before his release hit and he was falling into her, overwhelmed by the absolute power of their coupling.

"I love you, Emma," Killian whispered against her shoulder, his face sunk into her sweat covered skin. He breathed in heavily, arms coming up to hold her, "I love you so much."

And she knew.

She was ready.

So when he rolled off her, she followed, kissing him lightly in response with a coy smile. He knew. He had to know. And it was enough for now. To know, at least, that she was ready to take a chance.

* * *

Emma wasn't sure when they'd fallen asleep

"What's that?" Emma murmured, burrowing her head out from the pillow to look at the man beside her. He was snoring softly, arm slung over her body, but when she stirred, he had drifted into a semblance of consciousness.

"Storm," he grumbled. "Happens all the time. Go back to sleep."

She tried to. But the thunder was like an army of the gods waging war upon the mountainside. She thought Killian had fallen back to sleep, but when he whispered from the dark, "It's okay, Emma. I'm here," she felt a little safer and snuggled into his side, the closeness of the blankets and his body deadening the sound somewhat.

_I'm here._

But some stray thought in the corner of her mind pierced through her body. And it didn't feel like a fear, or her subconscious drifting into the forefront of her dreams. No. As she drifted into sleep, it felt like something of a premonition; a weary and sad voice saying.

_But not for long._


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews and follows and favourites! Each email is like cookies. Love you guys!

* * *

_**Chapter Seven: **The Promise and the Tempest_

* * *

The two weeks passed in a haze of ecstasy. Between frantic sex within their very own cabin, romantic walks hand in hand along the beach, barefoot and free, the sunsets that set the sky alight with colour and the warmth of simply having Emma beside him, Killian Jones had never felt happier. His heart swelled with love every time he looked at her. And sometimes she would catch him. And she would blush, turning her face away, finding something different to talk about.

She felt for him. That was obvious – a fool could see it. Which he very much was. This man was a fool in love and he was honestly proud to be.

Her fingers twined in his of their own accord. He dropped his eyes as a smile lit up his face, whispering, "I don't want this to end."

"Does it have to?" Emma asked, looking over at him with a small pout on her lips. "I could think of a few ways to keep you here."

And before he knew it, Emma had launched herself at him. Her soft curves fell against him with a purpose. And as she rose up, her hands in the sand holding her up and her hair cascading around her face, she grinned – that devilish grin that meant she had lascivious plans.

"Breaking my bones?"

"Is that really something you want to share with the world, Jones?" She breathed, lining down to run her teeth along his collar. "Your girl broke your bones having sex."

"Obviously she just couldn't resist me," he smirked back, spinning her over in one fluid movement. He covered her body, his hips pressing between hers as his arousal grew. "One last hurrah on the beach, then, love?"

"No," Emma shook her head, pushing him off. He as surprised, most definitely, but that didn't change the fact that he did as he asked and scrambled to his feet. Searching her face amongst the movement, he saw her smiling gently. Holding out her hand, she offered, "Let's go home."

"I like the sound of that," Killian grinned taking her open hand and letting her lead him back the mountainside. Whilst dusk was setting in around them, they felt surrounded more by each other, and then enveloped by the molding colours on the horizon, the hint of clouds gathering in the distance.

For the last time, Killian carried Emma through the door, feeling her hands brushing against his neck, her teeth nipping against the skin of his neck, causing goosebumps to erupt over his skin and a certain part of his anatomy to rise.

Carrying Emma to his bed, he laid her down gently, covering her body with his and kissing her as though he would never get the chance to kiss her again.

He could feel her hands running up and down his body, setting his skin alight with feeling, his heart beating so hard he thought it was going to speed to a stop.

He would die a happy man.

Emma had his pants pushed down within a split second, her hand wrapped around his thick length, sliding up and down in a cruel and slow mockery of the first time they'd met. He whispered her name as he reached up beneath the summery dress she was wearing. Their connection broke for a moment, held together by the strands of tension that always surrounded them whether they were needing release or not.

"Emma," Killian breathed against her ribs, kissing the soft skin. He shivered at the way she leant up on her elbows, the brassiere she was wearing pushing her breasts towards him like an offering.

With a growl, he pulled a cup down, latching his lips onto her nipple, his tongue licking at it, feeling it harden against his mouth as Emma moaned beneath him. Her body moved against him, his cock rubbing deliciously against her stomach as he kneaded her breasts with both hands, pulling away to gaze at her disheveled appearance.

"What do you want, my love?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss her collarbone, her jaw and finally her lips, thrusting his tongue inside of her mouth as he mirrored his movements with his hips, rubbing at her through her panties. He swallowed her words before finally allowing them both respite to breathe.

"Don't talk," Emma breathed finally, winding her hands in his shirt and flipping him over onto his back. She practically tore his shirt from his body before pushing her panties down her legs. He watched her hovering above him, her hand wandering down his chest, giving soft massaging motions as she did. All he could do was let his fingers trail over her soft skin in the hopes of never losing that feeling against the pads of his fingertips.

Her warm hand wrapped around him, guiding him into her without a second thought. Killian was enraptured by her face as it was thrown back in ecstasy. Her warmth wrapped around him like a vice, still just as tight as the first time she had taken him to bed. She rode him slowly, her hips undulating over his and drawing out every feeling she possibly could.

He was lost in her. When she moaned, he could only answer, when she bit down upon his shoulder, he growled and her hips stuttered. He could feel her on the edge – hanging there upon the precipice.

And he didn't want to let her go.

He spun her around, pushing her into the pillows as he kissed her. His fingers tangled in her golden locks. And despite the dim light, they shone – she shone.

Her breathing was coming in shallow pants, her knees pulling upwards to rest upon his hips as she writhed against him.

She came abruptly, with a sharp cry that echoed throughout the room, echoed by the sound of thunder far off beyond the horizon. Her walls tightened around him and he groaned, long and hard, pushing into her twice more before coming with her name silently whispered upon her lips.

He collapsed heavily upon Emma's sated body, careful not to crush her. Not that she seemed to mind, her arms coming up around him with a content smile. With eyes still closed, she nuzzled her nose against his and he returned her smile. After a few moments, he rolled to her side, peppering kisses against her shoulder as Emma breathed, "That was amazing."

"The lady should be complimenting herself," Killian answered as she spun her face towards him. "_You_ are amazing." He kissed her nose before snuggling into the crook of her neck. The sun had long since passed them by. He'd have to move soon to get the fire started. But not yet. Right now, he was with his lover. And he was happy.

Turning his head, he eyed her carefully, as though gaging her reaction to what he was about to say.

"I'm going to be a lieutenant, Emma," Killian murmured against her shoulder.

"Hmm," she hummed contentedly, her fingers were running up and down his back delicately. "That's sexy."

He chuckled before groaning as her hand reached his hair, massaging against the base of his skull with practiced fingers. "It does mean that I might not be able to…to write as much. Or…get leave…"

She bolted up, turning to look at him with wide eyes that almost seemed frightened. "So this is it! You decide to tell me now that you're going away. You're leaving me."

"No, Emma…Swan," he fumbled with words. He hadn't expected that. Although, if he'd thought it through properly, he would have realized. "I want to do this so that I can give you the life you deserve. Buy you fancy dresses and cooks and housekeepers, a place at court."

"I don't want that," Emma answered with stormy eyes. "You and me, here. This cabin. That's all I want."

But he saw the defeat in her eyes. They both knew that could only ever be a dream.

"I will do my duty," he promised. "And then I will come back to you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Killian," she whispered with a sadness that carried through each and every word. "Not like my parents."

"They loved you," Killian responded, reaching for her, to comfort her in anyway he could. But her body was closed to him, her knees tucked underneath her in a way that made her look oh-so small. So he shuffled in behind her, his hand brushing away her hair with the gentlest of touches so that he could lay his forehead to the back of her neck.

"I love you," he whispered, breath brushing over the cool skin. "Even if it takes me a long time, I will come back to you."

"Or you could just not go," Emma breathed. "If you love me, you won't leave me."

"Emma…please don't…"

"Why!" she spun around, and he saw her eyes watering as she leant up on shaking knees. "Is that what love is, to leave people? To leave them wondering and waiting? Letters are barely enough – what am I supposed to do when I have nothing!"

"You'll never have nothing, Emma." His heart was tearing in two with the desperate anger upon her face. He reached for her again and Killian thought she would shove him away, but she didn't. She let him take her hand and press it against his bare chest, right over his heart. He felt it pulsing sharply through his veins, watching as her eyes softened to the constant beat.

"How am I supposed to know you're safe," she breathed. And wordlessly, he took his other hand and placed it upon her heart, feeling the tightness of her fingers wrapping around his hands.

They probably looked like they were about to partake in some odd dance, but in that moment, feeling each other's heartbeats, that was the closest Killian Jones had ever felt to his lady.

That night, they ate in silence. Almost as though grief had already settled in upon Emma's heart because she barely touched her plate, and when Killian asked if she was finished, she gave a non-committal nod. They cleaned up in relative peace that felt oddly like the calm before a storm.

Probably because it was.

"I trusted you," Emma whispered finally, after putting the last plate beneath the counter. "I guess, I thought that meant we were a team."

"Emma, we are a team," Killian breathed, pulling her in tightly by the waist, trying to feel her warmth and comfort both her and himself at the same time. "We will always be a team. We're just, taking a few different paths towards the same destination here."

He brushed the hair away from her face affectionately, his lips placing a soft kiss upon her forehead just as a window burst open behind them. They both jolted at the splitting sound of glass shattering upon the wooden floor, and Killian rushed quickly to clean it up despite Emma's protests. Glass was dangerous to everyone – the least he could do was save her feet from the shards.

"You should go to bed," Killian began as he put the glass inside of a large bag of rubbish. "It'll get cold with that draft in here…"

Emma was already rubbing her arms in an effort to stay warm, but she was hesitant to leave him. Even Killian was uncertain as he glanced out the window. It was too dark to see, but the clouds didn't look calm or easy. This storm felt different.

"I'll be there in a moment –"

But he never got to finish that promise, as the front door blew in on its hinges and a yelling voice came, "Killian! Pirates in the bay! We need your help!"

"Stay here," Killian urged, turning round to Emma, already halfway out the door. "I'll be back."

And when he ran out of the door, he thought he heard Emma crying out after him, his name lost amongst the raging wind along with the words she still hadn't told him – at least not directly. But he felt them in his heart…

Despite the fact that he broke his promise.  
He didn't come back.

Not for a very long time.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you for all your lovely reviews! (Lovely and pained) :(

* * *

_**Chapter Eight: **The Mother and Her Heart_

* * *

**Four Months Later**

When Emma Swan woke up, she was alone in a cold room.

Her head was throbbing, her body aching, and she had no idea where she was. The last she could remember, Killian was running out to assist in a pirate attack, but after that…

A loud crash a few metres away forced her to turn her head, finding the tails of Ruby's dress in her peripherals. Emma moved her mouth and felt her vocal chords vibrating, but no sound came out. Just a breath that sounded like "Ooh-ey."

"How is she going?" Emma recognized Graham's voice from afar but he sounded sad, as did Ruby when she answered.

"The healer's come and gone," Ruby murmured. "She shouldn't be alive, Graham. Everyone knows that. Especially not with…"

"Ru….by…" Emma finally managed at a slightly louder volume, but still with a husky croak. Their voices hushed quickly, Graham aski

ng… "Did you hear that –"

"Emma!" Ruby yelled, running back into the room and spotting Emma immediately, her eyes finding Ruby's. Emma tried to move but Ruby held her down. "No moving. You're too ill. Graham, get her water. Now."

The man obeyed Ruby without a second inquiry. He was back in a split second, the liquid of the gods pouring down her throat and soothing the dull ache that lay there.

"Thank you," Emma said, finally, bringing her hand up wearily to stop him. "What happened to me…"

"We don't know," Ruby answered, drawing a stool over, scraping it over the floor. Her kindly face looked over Emma's, a little drawn, but with affection the Graham mirrored from afar. "There was a hurricane – a bad one – off the coast. And you were there… and we were so worried. But then a man named Lee Darcy brought you to us. You were unconscious and you have been since then. It's impossible you shouldn't be alive and we've been praying every day and you're still here."

Emma's brow furrowed. That explained her stiff limbs. "How long exactly have I been…"

Ruby glanced at Graham, unwilling to share the fact, but he gave an almost imperceptible nod and Ruby turned to face Emma with a worried expression. "Emma, don't freak out but…it's been four months."

"Four months…" Emma frowned, her mind still not catching up with her. "Since the hurricane…Killian! Where's Killian!"

She was trying to struggle upwards, her body wouldn't let her.

"He wasn't there…he wasn't with you."

"No, he went to go fight the pirates," Emma answered in explanation, her eyes widening as the reality sunk in. She'd been unconscious for _four_ months. And Killian wasn't here.

"He didn't come back?"

Ruby's brow furrowed before she shook her head almost imperceptibly. Emma felt her heart rate speed up. Where was he? Was he okay – was he…

_Gone._

"Emma," Ruby whispered, her face a little concerned about what she was about to say. "There's something you should know."

"What?" she enquired, struggling to sit up again. This time, Ruby finally let her.

"Erm, it's been four months, you know that you shouldn't be alive, right?"  
"But I am," she answered, spinning around. Her strength was already returning, but what she wouldn't give for something to eat.

"And erm, he shouldn't be alive too."

Ruby looked at Emma pitifully. Why was she looking like that…why was she looking at her stomach?

Emma looked down to where Ruby was searching. There she saw the bump. The very distinctive bump.

"Well, fuck."

* * *

"So, you have magic?"

"Way to start a conversation, Graham," Emma laughed as he closed the door behind him. Emma sat up against her pillows. The thought had been running through her head a lot the past few weeks and it was the only thing that made sense. To survive four months without food, being force-fed water – and to keep a baby alive within her all that time – there was no other explanation.

"But yes," she finished finally, "I suppose, that is the truth."

"We should find someone who knows, erm…about these things."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"Explain that I'm a reformed criminal with an illegitimate child."

"Yes, another problem we have to deal with…"

Emma blanched before eyeing him beadily and spitting, "Did you just call my child a problem, Graham?"

"No," he waved his hands quickly, eyes widening in horror, "No, I meant the fact that you will be a single mother. And whilst we find no problem in it, working here especially, people will notice and you might find that what made men back off in the past, may no longer work."

Emma frowned, as he came to sit beside her on the bed. "You think what happened…before…is going to happen again?"

"Perhaps," Graham said softly, "there is however a way to avoid it."

"Don't," Emma said sharply, suddenly realizing where he was heading with this. Somewhere he'd been heading since he was able to say the words with enough conviction. "I won't agree."

Her voice shook as she said it. Because for the first time ever, she was considering it. She was considering his offer.

But the mere thought brought back the true reason it was necessary. Killian was gone. Four months with no sight of him. No letters. A hurricane…

She refused to think about it. Because last night, in the darkness, in her bed, alone, she had cried for hours into her pillow. It didn't smell like him at all; Ruby had washed the sheets. And she had nothing of his; nothing of him…to remind her of him.

Nothing except the tiny life growing inside of her.

"This is his child, Graham," Emma said brokenly, looking up and searching his blue eyes. Yes, they were oh so blue, but they were so very far from Killian's. That perfect embodiment of the ocean. Perhaps their child would bear them. "Whatever happens, I won't take that away from him."

"He's gone, Emma," Graham answered, apologetics straining his voice. Maybe he was sorry, but he was pouncing upon opportunity. "But you'll need protection and I can give it to you…"

"No."

"The offer still stands," he responded with a sad smile, rising to his feet. "Whenever you need me, I'll marry you." He gave her one last sympathetic look before exiting the room, pulling the door in behind him.

"No," she repeated, albeit defeated, to the closed wooden door.

_Not while there was still a chance that Killian Jones was alive._

* * *

Emma didn't go back to work whilst she was pregnant. She assisted with the old apothecary for a while, until she grew too heavy with child to properly bend over and pick herbs.

The old woman was a godsend. Not only was she versed in the ways of women, but also contained a library of rare books that assisted in Emma's research into her magic.

Thus far, nothing had made itself known in physical form. In fact, other than her miraculous stasis and recovery, she had shown no sign that she was remotely mystical.

"Perhaps, it is not you, we should be questioning, my dear," the old woman said one day as she ground up herbs on her bench. Emma sat at the table where Killian had once lain unconscious, every second in this room reminding her of him in the most brutal of ways. But she needed it. And she often got lost in it. So when the old lady spoke up, it took her a moment to respond.

"Sorry?"

"You," she repeated slowly, her wrinkled hands curling around the pestle as she put all her strength into the simple task. "Perhaps it is your _child_ we should be enquiring about. After all, a child of true love would be the most powerful being, do you not think?"

"True love," Emma mused with a soft laugh. "If that were true, he would still be here."

"Even true love cannot fight off death."

"He's not dead, Hyacinth," Emma said sharply, and the old lady raised her wizened brow but didn't respond. That is, she did later, after almost an hour of silence. And even then, Emma barely heard her.

"And the only way you could know that is through the magic of true love."

Emma chose not to respond, despite the small flicker of hope in her heart and the hint of a smile that tilted her lips.

* * *

Emma gave birth in mid May to a child with a dusting of blond hair and the bluest eyes one could possibly imagine. Her name came to Emma's lips easily, for there had only ever been two names possible.

"Freya," she whispered to her little girl, hands curled tightly as he mother gazed wondrously and wearily upon her. "Little Freya for her father's mother."

Ruby smiled across the room, and Hyacinth seemed just as weary as Emma after delivering her baby. Cleansing herself, mother and child, she gave Emma a gentle kiss on the forehead, and a fond smile, before departing the room and leaving Ruby and her alone.

"She looks like you," Ruby offered with a smile, coming to gaze at the small child who was already drifting off to sleep in her mother's arms.

"A little," Emma answered, a happy smile growing upon her face, "But she looks like her father more."

* * *

Two months after giving birth, she was back to work. She didn't want to admit that Graham was right, but her figure had changed, and somehow the rumour of the woman of loose morals had spread throughout the region. Hands were where she didn't want them, advances were frequent and even payment was offered. And one day, Emma had to fight one off, closing in on her, leering drunkenly as she went outside to get rid of the garbage. It was the first time she'd had to use a knife in a long time. She hated men. Hated them all except for those two she loved. But the one she loved most…

But he was gone.

The reports said as much. Oftentimes, she'd find herself jumping at the sight of a navy crew coming in off the streets. But it was never Erais' men. And it was never Killian.

But still, word spread. Of the navy ship overrun by pirates on a secret mission. The captain and his crew were gone, Erais was commissioning more ships to be built. A pirate threat arising from the North. A greater magic in the South.

But still, her heart beat on. But as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and August came around again, Emma began to lose faith that her heart had ever been right in the first place.

And so, she went upstairs to where Graham was standing in her room, baby in his arms as he rocked the three month old to sleep. Emma stood in the doorway for a moment, just watching. But when Graham looked up at her, he must have seen something in her stance because when she nodded, he nodded too – a silent exchange of their future.

And a week later, the town newsletter arrived with the headline.

**Local Barmaid marries Handyman**


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry guys! I know you all hate me after last chapter. *Ducks from rotten tomatoes*

But this will have a happy ending. It will!

And lols to the anon who said this is a Gremma fic after a marriage of convenience, when there's been 7 chapters of CS smut. *thumbs up*

Also, a massive thank you to you all! I just hit 300 followers last chapter and that is a milestone for me - so thank you so very very much!

Enjoy! xx

* * *

_**Chapter Nine:** __The Pirate and his Plan_

* * *

When Killian Jones woke up, he was in a familiar cabin on a small narrow bed. The welcome sway of the ship beneath him told him he was out open the sea and after a moment, he realized exactly where he was.

"Liam…" Killian groaned, a pain in his side as he rolled over. The last he remembered, he was fighting off the hoards of pirates coming into the port. They were overrun. He was fighting a particularly nesting looking guy. Cuts all over his face and foaming at the mouth in anger.

Then he'd felt it. Someone attacking from behind – a knife in his gut – he blacked out…

"Bloody pirates," Killian breathed as he heard the sound of Liam coming down into his room.

"Ah, you're awake, brother," Liam grinned, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a ship," he answered honestly turning to look up at his older brother. "What happened?"

"We were on our way to assist, but the pirates had ransacked the town and fled by the time we arrived. You'd been patched up already, but we thought it best to get you back to Erais."

"Emma!" Killian cried, bolting upright, almost hitting his head on the bunk above him. "Where's Emma!"

"Emma…" Liam browed. "You mean, you didn't just go travelling solo…"

"Liam, are you honestly, that stupid," Killian groaned, hand flying to put pressure on his side. "I love her, alright. Get over it. We can't all marry Countesses. Where is she?"

"I…" Liam opened and closed his mouth a few times, "I didn't know she was with you. No one mentioned it…"

"She was in the cabin – I told her to stay there –"

Killian was rising to his feet, the fact that they were probably very far away not computing in his mind.

"Killian!" Liam pushed him back down, eyes blazing, "The township's gone – destroyed in the hurricane."

"What…no." Of course it was a hurricane, he should have seen it coming. The warning signs were all there. But, they had been having such deep conversations and he had ignored it, simply wanting everything to be okay between them. He'd missed the signs.

_So where was she now._

He'd feel it if she was dead. He would know. She was alive. Wherever she was, she was alive.

"Where are we?" he groaned finally. "I need to get to Arenai."

"You've been out of it for a week brother," Liam answered, "We're already heading off to the North on our mission."

"I can't, not without knowing…"

"If you love her, she must be strong, brother," Liam said, a somewhat comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't approve. But when we get back, I'll go with you to meet her. Properly."

Killian grasped his brother's hand with a sad smile. "I'd like that, brother."

"In the meantime," Liam said, "You rest up. Because as soon as you're well enough, we're leaving."

"Off to Neverland?"

"Aye brother," Liam nodded. "Off to Neverland.

* * *

**Six Months Later**

Time in Neverland passed significantly differently to time in real life. It was hard to truly know, but by the time Killian had set his brother to sea, his body lost to the depths, he realized that it was a different season to when they left. The tides were much too different, and the far off silhouette of the coast looked terribly different to how he remembered it.

"Alright, mates," Killian said, "We're heading into the next port with a mind to get a fresh tin of paint but before we go, Smith and Collins, I need you hoisting our spare sail now that we've gotten rid of that instruments of Hades. I wanna be off and out of here."

"I've got a score to settle with our dear King Erais," Killian muttered to himself as his hands tightened around the wheel. His brother was gone. And he was going to get his revenge.

_Your girl is dead. Best you forget about her._

He clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might break. That damned evil child that had killed his brother. He should have heeded his words. All magic had a price.

Liam was gone. Emma was gone. Erais was going to pay.

"And who…might you be?"

He was drunk. He couldn't remember ever being _actually_ drunk. But now – there was no denying it. And the rest of his crew were just as sloshed, but Killian liked the idea that he could still move himself around. And enjoy…other…activities.

The girl giggled. She wasn't the kind that his eyes normally glazed over. She was smaller, petite, with dark hair that fell straight over her breasts.

"Tira," she said with a soft smile. "And you're a Captain?"

"Aye love," Killian answered, leaning back, to rove his eyes over her form, "Captain Jones."

"Are you, er, looking for some company, Captain Jones?"

Perhaps it was time.

_He'd never made love to anyone who wasn't Emma._

"If you're willing, love," he grinned, tongue darting out to wet his lips, hand reaching for her smaller one and tugging her down into his lap. Maybe, if he…if he _fucked _her hard enough…he'd forget.

"Who could deny a face like yours," she answered, fingers trailing from his jaw downwards to where his black shirt was parted. It didn't feel right. Perhaps it never would.

"Let's go, lass," he said abruptly, pulling her to his feet. And he ignored the crew behind him as he led the wench upstairs.

* * *

**Five Months Later**

"Captain Jones, a navy ship ahead! It's Erais!"

"Open fire."

* * *

**Two Months Later**

"What to you think, Collins? Capture don't kill? They look like they've got a decent load on 'em."

"Aye, Captain."

* * *

**Three Months Later**

"Erais is commissioning more privateers for this region."

"Is that a problem, Captain?"

"Not at all, Collins. It means we're getting to him."

* * *

**A Year Later**

"And who might you be?" Killian looked up to find a woman who had slumped into a chair opposite him. He was tired, swirling his rum absently in his glass. It had been a good haul today, taking a merchant ship bound for Regina's land from Erais. Killian had no qualms disrupting that blessed union.

"Milah," the woman sighed, motioning for a drink as she did. Killian looked at her curiously for a moment. What a strange woman. She wasn't here for a good time, nor was she here for companionship. She was running away.

Killian could sympathise with that.

"Killian," he replied, surprising even himself. He hadn't introduced himself with that name in years. Especially not to women in taverns.

"Well, _Killian_," she said, eyes sparkling, "You a pirate?"

"Captain, actually."

"So, you'd have loads of stories, then," Milah grinned, and Killian found it infectious. He hadn't drunk much. That and he also wasn't too concerned with this woman. She gave him none of those wanting feelings. All he wanted was to talk to her.

A friend. Maybe that was who he needed.

And he settled for a long night, regaling the woman with heavily romanticized tales of the wondrous pirate, Captain Jones.

* * *

"Captain, Captain! Erais himself is travelling south! We have to set sail!"

Killian ignored the urge to roll out of bet with a groan, his hangover catching up with him, instead choosing to yell, "Smee! Learn some tact when waking up your captain!"

"Apologies, Captain Jones. Should I let someone know."

"Make preparations," Killian sighed. He should feel happy – ecstatic even. After all this time, he was finally going to get his revenge.

And yet it didn't feel satisfying.

"Er…Captain."

"What now," Killian groaned as he stretched in order to zip up his tight leather pants.

He was hoisting his boots on when Smee called down the ladder, "There's a woman here for you."

"Bloody hell," Killian breathed, swinging himself up the ladder before clasping his vest together. He took a moment to adjust to the early morning light before he saw the woman from last week. The one who had laughed at his stories. She was standing on the gangplank hesitantly, but the seconds she saw him, she stalked forward, instantly making demands of him.

"Take me with you," Milah pleaded, her blue eyes shining in a way that made her seem like a teenager all over again. Killian smiled.

"I'm sorry, love," Killian answered, walking to the other end of the ship with her trailing close behind. "I don't take passengers."

"I won't be a passenger," Milah answered stubbornly. "I can fight."

"Then fight," Killian answered spinning around abruptly. "You told me your story. Your child needs you. Take him and leave your husband. Your future is in your hands so don't let him control it."

"That's why I want to go with you!" she answered, eyes wide with the thrill of adventure, and Killian almost laughed. As it was, a breath of amusement escaped his lips.

"My dear, a pirate's life may seem adventurous, but it is nothing but a lonely farce. Seek your own adventure – but it will not be with me."

"You despise life, Killian Jones," the woman answered, her voice on the cusp of anger, filled with frustration. "Those stories you told, they were beautiful –"

"And they were false, Milah," Killian retorted, swinging up to the helm. She followed him up the stairs and he groaned. The woman honestly didn't know when to stop. "You wanted stories; I gave them to you. My life is none of your concern."

"What made you this way," Milah frowned. "So bitter and…" she trailed off. Killian of course, refused to answer. He knew exactly what had made him this way. Loss had made him how he was. It had made him _who_ he was.

"You're a good man, Killian Jones," Milah said, with a furrowed brow. "I think I can see it somewhere in there."

Killian chuckled mirthlessly before Milah touched his shoulder. "Maybe you need to find a real adventure."

"Good luck with yours." He meant it. She seemed like a good lass. She deserved a good life. He supposed, she should take it now, before it was lost to her.

"Thanks," she smiled softly, before turning on her heels and walking away from him. He watched her for a moment before Smee came up and interrupted him.

"Ship's ready for cast off, Captain."

"Thank you, Smee," Killian nodded. "Collins! What's our heading?!"

"South, Captain! Rumours say he making port in Arenai and footing it from there."

_The universe was finding it fit to punish him further_.

Well he was going to get Erais.

Arenai was a place he never wanted to see again, but if it regained him some sense of hope… If then, he could move on to find his own adventure…

Perhaps reliving all that he'd lost was worth it.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: It's been a while coming, but if you follow me on Tumblr, you'd know why. :) But thank you so much for your reviews they are literally my lifeline. I love so guys so much. xx

Aight, no more mushiness.

* * *

**_Chapter Ten: _**_The Widow and the Wanderer_

* * *

Freya was running across Emma's bedroom floor with her hands outstretched and reaching for her mother. Emma had withheld her favourite toy until the little girl sat down and ate her food, problem was, since Graham had bought her the little wooden sword, she had refused to let it go. Whoever thought that was a suitable toy for an almost two year old was completely stupid. Graham might be useful when it came to venturing out on market days and last week at the Fall Equinox Festival, but right now, she just really wanted to give him a piece of her mind.

"Freya!" Emma finally yelled exasperatedly. "You have to eat, then you can play."

"Mommy…" she whined but Emma didn't relent, challenging those baby blues with a strong glare of her own before Freya pouted angrily and turned back to her little chair and table. She knew better than to throw her food around and so shoveled it into her mouth at the speed of light. She hadn't quite mastered the art, and so it still went everywhere.

Putting the sword away, Emma sighed, looking at her little girl with ebony hair and fair skin. The world knew she wasn't Graham's now. It had taken about a year before you could properly tell that she looked nothing like him, and barely anything like Emma too. Just those cheekbones. And her chin. The rest was all Killian.

And Emma still smiled whenever she thought of him. Even if it was a sad smile filled with grief and regret. Because without him, she wouldn't have the little firecracker running around her little cottage that was currently sitting still for all of five minutes.

She had to go to work soon. Since Hyacinth had passed on, Emma had taken over her position. But people rarely got sick in Arenai. There was the occasional virus or fever but that was it. And so, she was still working at the tavern as she had all those years ago.

Hopefully Graham would be back any moment because she had to take a bath before she left.

But he didn't, so Emma took her daughter and washed her as well, before heading out the door with her little girl in tow.

Begging ensued with Granny. The old lady really wasn't cooking too much anymore, having hired someone to take her place. But truly, she didn't take much convincing. Despite her brashness, she was a loving mother, and truthfully, the only one Emma had ever known.

Grabbing an apron, she sidled behind the bar to where Ruby was frowning, cleaning glasses with a ferocity that meant she was quite annoyed.

"What's up with you?" Emma enquired nudging her with her hip. Ruby simply sighed in return.

"I'm annoyed with Graham. He should be looking after Freya."

"Ruby…"

"No," she answered, "You didn't get married because of a passionate love, you got married because of safety and when Graham isn't keeping you and Freya safe…I get pissed."

"It's fine, Ruby," Emma said, "Granny is more than happy to…"

"That's not the point, Emma," Ruby sighed. "But you need to talk to him later. I've got a tavern to upkeep."

Well, _she _was particularly short that night. And her attitude plagued Emma all through her shift. But when she finally took her leave, and gathered Freya's sleeping form from Granny's bed, Emma headed straight home. Ruby was right.

Graham and her, despite their marriage, had never really…tried to work at loving each other…

He walked on glass around her. Constantly checking her face for a sign that perhaps her feelings had changed, and upon finding that they hadn't, he would retreat to his room.

They had never shared a bed.

More at his inclination that hers. Their kiss at their wedding had been chaste and quick, and apart from looped arms when they went out, Emma and Graham barely touched.

Emma hadn't moved on. It felt like it sometimes, but then she'd be reminded that the last time someone had touched her – truly touched her – was two and a half years ago. It was Killian. And he was dead.

Graham didn't come home that night. And when Emma was awoken the next morning by Freya shaking her vigorously, the first word she was greeted by was, "Grae?"

"He's not here?" Emma enquired, crawling from sleep as her daughter sat up on her knees, shaking her head from side to side.

Emma scooped her up and took her into their kitchen, getting her a drink before she checked Graham's bed. With a quick check of the sheets, she saw they were unrumpled – still as perfect as when she'd put them on yesterday. Graham definitely hadn't been home.

So with a furrowed brow, she went into the kitchen and got breakfast ready. Her and Freya would get dressed, then they'd head out to find him.

"I want to play," Freya protested as Emma forced a cardigan around her small frame. It was one of the few sentences she said on a daily basis, but this time, Emma had to say no. Truly, she was growing quite worried about Graham. He never stayed out all night. And she knew he could take care of himself, but he was her closest friend and she needed to know.

She couldn't lose him too.

But when the first person she saw that morning, walked up to her and offered condolences, it took all she had not to break down and cry.

* * *

"Emma, you shouldn't be in here," Ruby exclaimed as Emma grabbed her apron and continued to work.

"Granny's already looking after Freya," Emma answered quickly, her voice monotonous, "She's staying at the cottage tonight."

"Emma…"

"And we really need the money now."

"Emma!"

Ruby caught her by the arms and stopped her dead. The white apron looked stark on the black dress Emma was wearing, but she was in mourning and she would wear the shade for forty days.

It was exactly how she felt – but she doubted that would heal after a measly forty days.

"Go home."

"I'm not sitting there miserable and caring for Freya because I know I have to and because I love her and I know that should be enough to keep me going, but it's not. I'm a curse and knowing me, she'll probably be the next person to die."

"Emma, stop," Ruby said, pulling her into a hug despite the fact that she was pulling away. "You need to breath. You need to stop for just a moment."

"That's when it hits me that everyone leaves," Emma mumbled into her shoulder. "I can't Ruby. I can't do that again."

"He didn't leave you, Emma," Ruby answered, pulling away and brushing the hair from her face. "Some crazy person ripped out his heart – but he was coming home to you."

"He was coming home to a dream of me," Emma whispered, sadly, pulling away from Ruby. "A dream that never was."

She pulled herself together and walked away.

* * *

For the next forty days, Emma went on with her life. Ruby and Granny and Freya were her rock – her family. And with every passing day, she grew evermore grateful for the three of them. She found herself falling asleep with Freya in her arms more often than not, waking up to the little girl shaking her awake with a loud, "Mommy, food."

Granny would take her for nights, when Ruby and Emma were flittering through the bar as they usually did. In her garb, no one approached Emma. In fact, the regulars complimented her whenever they saw her smile – however rare it was. It was a good sign.

And perhaps they were smiles tinged with sadness in her eyes, but it was a good sign.

* * *

"Swan."

"What can I get you?" she said without thinking, turning around to meet the people surrounding the wooden table. They were sailors – the general wash of the sea that met her nose gave her that inclination. And the fact that only one person in her life had ever called her Swan, didn't exactly register straight away.

"Swan?" his voice was hopeful. Hopeful for what, she didn't know, but she turned to him with a frown upon her face. "Look, I only do drinks. If you want anything else go find –"

She lost the ability of words in that moment. When she finally looked up and saw…_him_…she couldn't move. She couldn't do anything but openly stare at him. Because beneath the mussed dark hair, tortured eyes and rugged scruff, was still her Killian.

"It can't be…" she staggered back finally. He was dead. He couldn't just turn up and…

Without a second thought, she ran.

"Swan!" his voice called after her, and she saw him dart, but she was faster – hiding behind the tavern until she saw him run past, searching for her. She took the back way home, where she found a sleeping Granny and Freya upon the couch.

She passed them by and collapsed on her bed. She really should tell Ruby that why she left. She should help her… someone else should be there…

But she fell asleep before she could dwell anymore on the subject and on those too blue familiar eyes.

* * *

Killian wanted to cry out in joyous relief to whatever gods were out there.

"She's alive," he mumbled to himself, over and over again. And when Ruby came over with their ale, he stopped her for a moment. She too, took a moment in reognising him, before her dark brows furrowed and she breathed, "Killian?"

"Ruby," he said in relief, "Thank the gods this isn't just some dream. You have to tell me how Emma is here! With the hurricane – news came to me that there were no other survivors on the island."

"Your mate, Lee Darcy found her and brought her back to us," Ruby answered, still in shock, a tone that quickly turned to accusation. "You never came back! You never sent her a letter! After the hurricane, we heard your ship had gone north and that none of the crew had survived the latest endeavor! How long has it been, Jones, that she hasn't known."

"Well, neither have I –"

"You know what," Ruby argued, and Killian noticed they were gaining a crowd, "Take this up with her. I don't want to get involved."

"Ruby."

"Talk to her," she ordered, and left him to serve another customer.

It was easier said than done. No one seemed to want to give him her address. In fact, no one seemed to quite know who he was talking about. After a frustrated day of searching, her was about to return to his ship, but the last peron he spoke to at the docks simply gave him a contemplative, "You mean Emma Humbert? She's on Third Street. Down the end by the baker."

"Thank you," Killian said earnestly, flicking him two pieces of silver for his help before sprinting off through the town. Darkness was prevalent as lights were extinguished in people's windows but he found the Bakery sign swinging in the soft breeze, a hopeful joy filling him as he sped towards the cottage where a soft light drifted through the drawn curtains.

Without apprehension, he knocked on the door – too filled with excitement to delay any longer. He was going to hear her speak – see her face – she was here and she was alive.

"Who the hell is that?" A gruff voice came from inside, some shuffling occurred and then he was met with a rumpled looking old woman.

"I'm here for…Emma?" Killian was confused but he didn't let the old woman's beady eyes deter him.

"She's at work," she answered shortly.

"No, I'm pretty sure she's here," Killian answered, making the old lady take a quick glance towards a clock and turn to someone inside. He heard an indistinct conversation before the old lady walked away, a bundle in her arms.

He took the open door as an invitation (after all, closed doors were an invitation under most circumstances. He _was a pirate_). Stepping inside, he found that the fireplace had died down and it was quite cool. Closing the door behind him, he trodded towards the simmering coals and stoked the fire with wood until it grew into a semblance of a flame.

It was the door shutting that grabbed his attention, his eyes darting to where it had closed, finding that it wasn't the old lady that was leaning against it with her forehead, but his Swan.

"I don't know how to do this, Killian," she barely whispered. But that tiredness in her voice barely registered with him, instead, all he heard was her uncertainty. That same uncertainty that always made him want to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. But the second she saw him move, she was away from the door and taking a step back, her hands held out in warning.

"Don't," she breathed. Her eyes, they were wide in terror, but also red and puffy from tears. Her hands were trembling almost imperceptibly, but the fear was there all the same.

"Emma…" he breathed, trying to calm her down, but the sound of his voice seemed to counteract his intention, and her voice raised in pitch.

"Stop!"

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" Emma asked hysterically, but noticeably softer. "I've been here, for two and a half years thinking you were dead. And you think you can just waltz back into my life and tear it apart again!"

"What…I…"

"I mourned for you," she almost growled, her anger growing with a flash of her eyes.

"I mourned for you too," Killian answered, feeling his own frustration bubbling to the surface. God, only she could make him this irrational. He stepped forward, around the small lounge to where she was standing back against the wall. "You never even tried."

"Neither did you," Emma retorted. He was within reach of her and she was pushing him back – not that it did any good.

"And you aren't glad to see me – at all."

"No," she answered, and Killian almost believed her. He would have, were it not for the fact that her eyes had flicked down to his lips as she said the word.

"You don't remember the way I made love to you with the sunset surrounding us," he whispered, knowing he was playing the seducer, but he was practiced enough now – and this was Emma. He knew her.

His fingers toyed with the loose tendrils of her golden hair. It was longer now – much longer. She hadn't cut it.

He was closer now. So close that she was shivering with his breath. The air was no different to how it used to be – filled with invisible tension…oh so close to breaking point.

"I can't…" Her voice caught, but her eyes were already closed; face tilted towards him in openness.

His lips pressed against hers tentatively, finding them dry and immovable. He could feel her shaking and tried to calm her, his hand sneaking around her waist to hold her. And it worked. She bent into him, her hand reaching for his neck as she opened her mouth to him, allowing their lips to mold against one another. He wanted her so much – to open up to him and let him in. He wanted her to be as ecstatic as he was but she was holding back. Her touch on his neck was feather light, almost as though she were unwilling to check if he were real.

He pulled away when he felt her doing the same, eyes searching for hers immediately. But when he found them, his face fell. Her green and glittering eyes that once shone with ecstasy were lifeless and defeated. And when her mouth opened and she whispered those words…his heart plummeted.

"I hate you," she breathed.

"Emma," Killian pleaded.

"Please," Emma whispered with an order in it. "Leave."

And with one final look at her face, he did as he she wanted with a short nod and a murmured, "As you wish."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry! It's been a while! I've had such a massive iron depletion and I can barely concentrate on doing menial tasks. I feel sorry for my students when I'm yawning through their lessons.

Smut's back yo.

Love you! Kisses for all my reviewers!

* * *

_**Chapter Eleven: **The Lover and the Hater_

* * *

Emma was shaking.

Killian's sent was lingering even hours after he'd left her house. After he'd left her in a room with a dying fire, staring at the door she'd forced him out of with a blank look upon her face. That wasn't what she'd wanted to do. Not anywhere near it. She loved him. She always had. She'd never told him but it had always been, and always would be, true.

But here she was, pushing him away. Again. She'd let him in, just for her to leave once and she wouldn't let it happen again.

At least, that was one reason.

The rest of her was just tearing up inside over the fact that _she_ had betrayed him. He was alive and she hadn't had enough faith to believe that he would come back. But here he was. And maybe it had taken a long time, but he was back.

Emma didn't know how to face him like this. Carrying a dead man's name but still loving Killian as she had all those years ago. When he kissed her…gods, she wanted to let go. She wanted to imagine that he had found her after the hurricane and this was there reunion.

But it wasn't.

He wasn't the same person – that much was clear. He looked like a pirate - a scoundrel. How could she even consider it…

His lips. They were warm and soft, tasting of rum and the sea and everything she had longed for for so many years. She wanted him. But she couldn't…

She hated herself. Because seeing him now – handsome and needy and – gods – _here –_ she knew she never should have bent. She shouldn't have married Graham. She shouldn't have tried to move on. She should've known he was alive.

But she had no clue what to do now.

* * *

When Killian woke he had a pounding headache. He groaned aloud and rolled over – covering his eyes with a disgruntled moan when the light from the world outside met him.

"Collins! What the devil are you doing?!"

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon, Captain," his voice came back down. "We should be heading off by now."

"We bloody well, will not," he answered. "I have business here and we'll be staying as long as I say. Now close that hatch and bloody well leave me alone."

He was plunged into the relief of darkness, but the stupor he'd drank himself into last night wasn't exactly the best option. He felt like he'd run headfirst into the ship's hull repeatedly. Reaching for water, a washer and a herbal concoction in his draw, he settled back down to sleep off the worst of his hangover.

An hour later, he was scrambling about for some food as the cold weather hit him above deck. It awoke him with a jerk and the second Collins noticed him, he was at his side. With a roll of his eyes, Killian anticipated the questions.

"Yes, the woman last night is important. No, I'm not giving up on Erais. But I need to sort this out, now. So we'll leave when I'm ready. No, I will not give you a bonus because of this unexpected occurrence – you can pay for your own visit to the brothel. That cover everything?"

Collins opened and closed his mouth, "Did you want something to eat, Captain?"

"No," he sighed, blue eyes searching the town until he found the tavern. "I know where I'm going."

* * *

"Emma?"

"I don't want to hear a word," she answered, hand held up in protest to Ruby as she walked in, prepared to work. She couldn't afford not to. She just prayed that Killian wouldn't dare show his face here after the events of last night.

"Fine," Ruby growled, setting to work in silence. The crowd flowed in steadily throughout the night, and neither girl was very happy, but they put on their fake smiles anyway.

Emma was rolling up her crimson sleeves when she heard it. _His_ laughter. Maybe once it would have filled her with warmth. But right now she was just incredibly annoyed that he had waltzed back into her life and confused the hell out of her. And now, despite her very obvious wishes that he leave her alone, he was here.

But still, she perked her ears to hear the sound once more.

Only to hear an answering high-pitched giggle.

_Oh no he was __**not.**_

Emma's eyes shot to the corner where two simpering women were fawning over him. A red head had her face buried in his neck. The other, a brunette, was running her hands up and down his arms. His arms that she knew were solid with muscles that could pick her up with ease and…

"Emma, are you okay?"

Ruby arrived just as the glass Emma was threw the next glass into the sink, smashing it against the side and watching it splinter. One flew up, scratching her hand.

"Fuck," she cursed, pulling back and watching the red line flowering on her palm.

"Go clean yourself up," Ruby ordered, "Take a break. You need one."

"No, I'll be back in a minute," Emma answered, distractedly, grabbing a tea towel to dab up the blood before slipping into the kitchen. She scrambled around for a bit, finding some rum and a bandage and fixing herself up as well as she could.

When she came back out, she grabbed the nearest tray and went to deliver the next round to a group of people by the door. She was just spinning around to go back to the bar when she found a leather clad body in her way.

_No._

"Hello love," he slurred, his dark eyes thankfully remaining on her face.

"You're drunk," Emma answered, side-stepping him and trying to get back to the bar. Anything to avoid him.

"Not quite yet," he said, following her towards the bar where Ruby was eyeing them warily.

"Go back to your whores, Jones," Emma practically spat without looking at him.

"Why, darling, jealous?"

"Was that your intention?" Emma retorted, finally glancing up at him, anger flushing through her. "To make me jealous?"

"Well it appears to be working," Killian smirked back, his tongue running between his teeth. Emma glanced at his mouth for a moment, letting her thoughts run wild before second guessing herself and sighing.

"If you don't want a drink, then I think your lady friends are better suited to accommodate you."

Something akin to doubt fluttered in his eyes, before his mask of indifference was back up.

"For now," he whispered flippantly, but somehow it sounded like a promise.

Emma knew how little his promises were truly worth.

* * *

She thought the tavern was empty. She swear she did. She was the last person there after Ruby had cleaned up the kitchen, and looking exhausted, Emma had ordered her to bed. So now, Emma was wiping down tables. Completely oblivious to the pirate who came out of the corner of the room and pushed her up against the wall.

"No…no, Killian…" He was so close – his scent was flooding her senses. She shouldn't be attracted to him – she shouldn't want him in this way. But she was tired.

And Gods, did she ever.

"What's the matter, love," he breathed, his scruff grazing her cheek as he moved his body in against hers, trapping her in. The leather rubbed against her arms – arms that itched to curl around his body and tug him in. "Your body sings to me."

His tongue was running over the shell of her ear, and when he nipped at the edge, Emma couldn't help the hitch of her breath.

"I want to fuck you, Swan," he growled, his hips thrusting into her, and despite the layers of her skirts, she felt him. "Gods, I want your tight cunt around my cock."

Emma groaned as his hand palmed her breast harshly. She hated herself for wanting him. Everything about him was different. If rumours were true, she was looking at Captain Jones of the Jolly Roger. And she didn't want to believe them…

But when she felt his teeth nibbling on that special spot against her collarbone – that spot that only _he_ knew about it – she gave up.

She gave in.

Her lips were on his in a heartbeat, and Killian gripped her body with a possessiveness that sent shivers running down her body – heat gathering in her core as he ground insistently against her. He wasn't gentle.

She loved it.

"Room," Emma finally gasped, pulling away from his lips, but he didn't relent, growling and tasting her jaw.

"Bedroom," Emma breathed again, as he attacked her neck and she moaned again, clutching his leather clad arms weakly. "Now."

"As the lady wishes," he smirked, tugging her away. Emma followed him upstairs to a room. It wasn't hers – she'd long given that up – instead it was one of the guest rooms. Hook had probably already paid for it. For him and those girls he was with.

"Aye, you are gorgeous, lass," Killian grinned darkly, hands already hoisting up her skirt as he shut the door, "Let's see if you're just as good as you once were."

His hands burnt a path up her legs, setting her body aflame with desire she hadn't felt in years.

His hands clutched her ass tightly, fingertips digging in as Emma wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her to the bed, dropping her unceremoniously on top of the covers where she finally took a moment to take in the powerful image he cast over her.

Whatever had happened to him, he may not be the same – but he was definitely just as sexy.

"Take it off," Killian ordered huskily, his eyes travelling down her cleavage to her corset.

Perhaps she should have drawn it out and made it last, but all she could think about was his hands and his body and how badly she wanted him inside her. Her fingers were shaking as she went to her bodice ties, trying to act as quickly as she could whilst she watched every move Killian made. His jacket fell in a heap on the floor, then his vest clasp by clasp.

The black shirt was off and then he was climbing onto the bed with her, growling, "Why aren't you naked?"

Emma had been so distracted she barely had her bodice off. She yanked it from her body as Killian climbed atop her, darkness in his eyes. Maybe she should have waited til he was sober.

But then he was tugging down her dress and she heard it rip, but his lips were closing around her nipple and nothing else mattered. She heard a moan escape her lips as her hands travelled his chest. His muscles were more defined – his body hard and pressing against her – his hardness rubbing against her leg.

Her hand cupped him through his leather, feeling every ridge through the material, and rubbing at him desperately.

"You want it?" Killian growled against her breast. "Tell me how much you want my cock."

"I need it," Emma whispered, "Please, Killian."

"Captain," he growled, ripping her dress further as he pulled back. "Captain, love."

Emma's brow furrowed but then Killian was pulling her ruined dress down her body, her stockings and underpants rolling off with them, leaving her bare upon the bed, panting softly as she anticipated his movements.

Killian pulled his pants of ever so slowly, revealing his hard length and strong legs to Emma as she rose up to look at him.

"What do you want…Captain?"

A smirk curved his lips as he looked at her, on her knees and waiting for him to order her. She was struck by the role reversal in their…well, it wasn't exactly a relationship anymore.

"Your mouth," Killian ordered. "Use your mouth."

Emma took a moment to appreciate his naked form before approaching the edge of the bed and reaching for him. Wrapping her hand around him, she stroked him appreciatively before lowering her lips to his tip, and licking his head. Her tongue swirled around his tip, tasting him and watching his reactions before taking him in, swallowing as much of him as she could.

He let out an involuntary groan as his hips jerked towards her. Emma felt his hand pulling her hair to the side as he guided her head, bobbing up and down on his cock with rhythmic intensity. But he was controlling her and gods, she had never felt more like she needed him in the world. She could practically feel her essence dripping down her thighs, and he seemed to notice as well, because the next second, she felt his hand traversing the expanse of her back – trailing down her spine before his fingers began to massage her ass. Dipping lower to caress her thighs.

She felt, rather than heard his sharp intake of breath

"Oh gods, you're wet, lass," Hook hissed, his fingers delving into her crevice, circling the bundle of pleasure that lay there. "So fucking wet for me…"

Emma was on her back before she knew it, Killian's body hovering over her with a dark grin, "Alright, love. You wanna be fucked?"

His eyes were so dark she couldn't see the blue in them and it sent shivers down her spine. Gods, she just needed to come.

"Yes," Emma whispered, her hands on his chest as he settled himself between her legs. "Please."

Killian didn't waste any time, forcing his lips to hers in a bruising kiss as he plunged into her. It was a tight fit, stretching her painfully but he let her adjust – it was a kindness she hadn't expected in whatever game they were playing. And then he was moving, thrusting his hips into her, his cock rubbing her walls deliciously as he moved over her. One hand gripped her hip hard enough to bruise, but then again, her nails were probably doing decent damage to his shoulders.

"Fuck, you feel so good," his eyes were closed, and he was leaning down to her shoulder, lining their bodies up completely as he dug his teeth into her flesh, flushing his tongue over her skin in soothing motions. He was rough with his body, yet as her pleasure mounted, she felt him growing gentler with his lips – peppering kisses obscurely over her neck, groaning with each movement.

"Emma," he breathed into her neck, his voice breaking on each syllable. "Emma, gods."

"Killian," she answered, forgetting about his orders for a second and giving into the pleasure and the feeling on being surrounded by him once again. "I can't believe you're alive."

"Emma…" He slowed just as she began to feel her climax building.

"No, don't stop," Emma begged, lost in pleasure. "Remind me. Remind me that you're really here."

"Emma," Killian breathed, pulling up to look her in the eyes, his forehead coming to rest against hers. "I…I've missed you so…"

His voice was hitching, his hips stuttering, fingers delving towards her clit where he brought her to ecstasy with a few easy rubs of his fingers and then she was spiraling and Killian was coming inside of her. She let go of the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and fell, boneless, into the mattress.

Killian fell atop her, and without noticing, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight before he rolled them onto the side and brushed his nose over hers so intimately it almost frightened her.

No. It did frighten her.

Fuck, what had she done.

"I should go…" Emma breathed, her eyes half closed. He was so warm.

"Stay," he ordered, but it lacked punch. She did anyway, too tired for anything else.

And for the first time in such a long time, she fell asleep in Killian Jones' arms.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I know, I know, It's been ages! I've felt it but I am finding it very difficult to write at the moment. I will however try and update as often as I can!

All your reviews are most appreciated! You guys are so good to me. :)

Enjoy! xx

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve: **The Father and his Child_

* * *

He could scarcely believe it wasn't a dream when he awoke. He, Killian Jones, was holding onto the blonde siren who had ruled his life for years. He was loathe to let her go – he needed to hold onto her for as long as possible. He couldn't bare to just have her…go…

He wouldn't lose her.

Not again.

He brushed his lips over her shoulder, taking in her soft skin with loving reverence. Hands traced her bare stomach, the silhouette of her hip and the curve of her rounded buttocks.

"Killian," her sleepy voice uttered. "That feels good."

He felt himself rising, merely at the sound of her voice. He lowered her lips to her ribs, his hand roaming round to cup her breast, fingers coaxing her nipple into a hardened peak.

"You look gorgeous in the morning light, my Swan," he breathed against her skin.

"No, I don't want to wake up," Emma groaned, rolling over, eyes still closed with a grumpy look on her face. Killian chuckled lightly, kissing her nose lightly before kissing the frown off her face – a kiss which Emma clung to, her tongue delving into his mouth and plundering as though she were the pirate and not himself.

Her body was finding his, entwining their legs as she sought impossible closeness.

"You feel so good, Killian," Emma breathed, still keeping her eyes shut as she ran her hands down his chest.

"Open your eyes, my love," he breathed, kissing her gently upon her eyelids. "Please. Look at at me."

"No, don't want to wake up," she murmured childishly.

"I'm here and you are awake." Killian whispered against her forehead. "I want to see your beautiful eyes, darling."

Emma peeked through one cautiously, looking up at Killian with weary apprehension. "So it wasn't a drunken dream?"

"No, my love," Killian whispered with a wistful smile, his hand brushing her tangled blonde locks from her hair. "It wasn't."

He was so lost in her that he barely heard her sigh and whisper, "So what do we do now?"

"I don't know…"

"Holy shit, I stayed out all night!" Emma shot up, her shoulder giving his nose a painful hit as she went. He rolled out of the bed as she did, partially in shock and partially with the great need to make sure she didn't leave his sight. She wasn't going anywhere.

"I have to go, she'll be worried –" Emma was scrounging for her corset and dress, clothing herself quicker than Killian would have thought possible. She peeked at the window as he too pulled on his own tight pants.

"Good thing no one's out yet," Emma breathed, peeking through the windows. "I don't want to do a walk of shame through the…what are you…"

Her eyes widened as she spun around to find him half dressed.

"Those pants are…erm…"

"Sexy?" he offered, tongue darting out to lick his lips with salacious wink. Emma seemed to break her gaze then, rolling her eyes and snapping, "Put a shirt on. I'm going."

"Going, where, love?" Killian inquired quickly, grabbing her arm to stop her from stalking past him.

"Going _home_, Killian," she growled, yanking her arm from his arm. "This. This never happened. I'm going back to my life."

"Your life?" he chuckled mirthlessly. "Where you're still working in a tavern and you still love me but you're married to another man?"

Emma froze. She didn't turn around for a moment, but when she did, it was in confusion.

"You _knew_?!"

"Well, when some guy directed me to Emma Humbert I kind of guessed," he answered sarcastically. Geez. Did she think he was an idiot?

"And you had no trouble sleeping with a man's wife?"

"I've had many a man's wife, darling," he answered, growing more infuriated by the second.

"You're disgusting," she yelled moving to him swifter than he could stop her and slapping him across the face. It stung – sharp and hurtful – and angering.

"You're the one who slept with me darling," he whispered, grabbing her wrist as she retreated. "You're as much a sinner as I."

"I…" Emma was lost for words. And it was satisfying for a moment, before her eyes fell and she murmured a, "He died."

Killian waited a moment before he answered, "Oh."

"Got anything else to say, Jones?" Emma said stiffly.

"I'm sorry," he said. Genuinely. And softly. Gods, she'd lost more than just him.

Emma sighed, eyes on the floor as she took a step in, her head hitting his bare chest in defeat.

"I can't lose you again," Emma breathed and he felt his heart stutter. She must have felt it too because she was tilting her head – her ear pressing against his skin. And he wanted to hold her, but he wasn't sure what she wanted.

"What do you want?" he eventually asked her, trying to get it out of the way, but growing even more confused when she replied.

"Come to my cottage for dinner tonight."

"What?!"

"Leave Captain Jones behind," Emma continued, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "Please? We need to talk?"

"You didn't want to talk yesterday," Killian reminded her. He'd been pushed out of her house unceremoniously.

"Please…" Emma whispered, those green eyes toying with his emotions.

"Okay," he finally sighed, when really he was jumping up and down internally. She was letting him in. She was going to let him in!

"Six?" she offered.

"Aye," he said with an affectionate smile, his hands reaching for hers to bring them to his lips. He brushed a chaste kiss to each of her knuckles before releasing her and watching her go. The promise upon his lips as he fell back into his bed with a wide smile upon his face.

"Tonight," he repeated.

* * *

Emma had been cooking for three hours. She wasn't sure why this mattered so much, only that it did. She didn't want to kill him with her food, so she was taking a huge amount of care to not stuff up the recipe.

She needed to see who he was again. It had been so long and they had grown into such different people that it had been like looking at a stranger last night. And then she had found him beneath those layers. She had found the man she loved.

Emma groaned in frustration as she stirred the sauce in the pot over the stove. She loved him. She loved him still. But it was so hard…it wasn't so easy anymore. He'd left her as easily as he'd come – and she wanted him to stay. But there were too many questions that needed to be answered…

Emma let Freya run around as much as she wanted that afternoon in order to tire her out. So when she finally tantrumed her way to bed, she was out like a light.

And when his knock came at the door Emma was just finishing up the meal, wiping her hands on her apron and heading to the door murmuring, "Excellent timing," in order to convince herself that everything was okay.

"Evening, Swan," Killian murmured from the other side of the door, producing a small bouquet from behind his back. They weren't beautiful by any means considering nothing was flowering at this time of year. In fact, upon closer inspection, she noticed they were weeds – the prettiest by far – but he had handpicked them and that meant much more than if he had bought her any other gift.

"Thank you," she said, hiding her smile as she received them. "Come in, I'll get drinks sorted."

"Any rum, lass?" he grinned cheekily, following her towards the small dining area of her cottage. He took a seat at the neatly laid table and smirked at her.

"No, actually," Emma said with a hesitant chuckle as she reached for a tall glass to place the flowers in, "I er, don't drink."

"What?" Killian's brow furrowed.

With the baby, and then breastfeeding, she'd been off it for so long it didn't seem that important anymore.

"I just…don't," she shrugged, reaching for the tap and pouring them both glasses of water before slicing a lemon and placing it in the top of each glass. It was as fancy as Emma Swan ever was.

"So, dear Emma," Killian began as she sat across from him, eyeing her cautiously as though he knew something was troubling her mind. "Where shall we start?"

"Where did you go?" she began without hesitancy. The curiosity had been eating at her for days. "When you left me. Where did you go?"

"One thing, darling," Killian answered, "I never left you."

"You left me during the storm," Emma answered, realizing that she didn't even sound bitter anymore – just sad.

"To protect the settlement," Killian sighed, finger twirling the lemon around his glass. "I would have come back to you had Liam not found me first. Even then – I wanted to come and find you – but we had our mission. And they said there ere no survivors and a demon told me you were dead….I should've just followed my instinct. I always knew you were alive."

"I'm sorry," Emma sighed," turning her face downward as she stood up, fetching bowls for the pasta she'd made up. "I'm sorry I let go of you so easily."

"Did you, though, Swan?" Killian asked, as she spun around, placing food before him and herself, slipping into her seat easily.

"No, I didn't," she answered honestly, admitting it both to herself and him. And it felt easy. So many things about her life hadn't been. But here, with him? It was.

"I couldn't either," Killian finally admitted, absently toying with his food. "I tried. I'm sorry, but I tried. In revenge – in women – and I…" he trailed off. Emma could see the regret plain upon her face. This was her lieutenant. This was Killian Jones.

"It's okay," Emma answered, speaking between mouthfuls. "When I came back I found that I was in need of protection and Graham…Graham offered that."

"Graham?" Killian enquired, eyes wide. "The guy who persistently courted you?"

"Not really, but…" Emma frowned. "I guess so. Yes it was him."

She heard the barely concealed growl and retorted, "I'm sorry, Killian."

He took a moment before answering resignedly, "You had every right to marry him. I'm sorry."

They ate in silence for a while – companionable. Until he murmured, barely audibly, "Did you ever consider having a family? With him?"

"He was my husband," Emma shrugged, "We were a…somewhat unconventional family." Gods, why couldn't she just tell him about Freya! _Stop chickening out and just tell him!_

"You never…" Killian frowned, reading her as he always did.

"He never pushed it," Emma shrugged, "I wasn't about to fuck him when I was in love with someone else."

"You were…" His fork dropped with a clang in his bowl. "You were in love with someone else?"

Emma looked up at him then, her face blank because no matter what…if he had grown out of love with her…she would not let her heart be broken again.

"I wanted to tell you but you were running out that door faster than I could speak."

"Emma…" Killian was standing up by this time, crossing the distance between them and bending down beside her. She couldn't bear to look him in the eye and have him tell her that she was nothing to him.

"Emma, look at me," he pleaded. And she could never deny him anything. So when she glanced at him, it may have been with apprehension, but the minute she saw the love in his eyes, she was gone.

"I love you," he breathed, "I always have. I always will."

"Killian…" she whispered as he got closer, his lips always so tempting.

"Killian I have to te-"

But then he was kissing her and as always, he was the only thing on her mind.

* * *

He was gentle with her. Whatever they were right now, he didn't want to frighten her into running. And Emma was kissing him back with just as much hesitancy and he wanted to love her – cherish her.

The minute her fingers weaved around his neck, he was hooking his arm beneath her knees and lifting her up, his lips remaining fixed to hers until he, regrettably, had to break to ask, "Your bedroom?"

"Right," Emma answered, before her lips were on his neck, distracting him as she so often did. Her lips were delicate, tracing patterns along his neck until she latched onto his earlobe and he groaned.

"Swan," he groaned, carrying her through her doorway and placing her upon her bed against her sparse pillows. She deserved everything – and if she'd let him – he would give it all to her. If only she would let him.

He followed her down to the bed with great care, situating herself between her legs as he began to kiss her once more, his fingers trailing over the swell of her breasts with reverence.

"What do you want, dearest Swan," he breathed against her shoulder, "I'll not take what you won't give."

"Everything," she breathed, almost whimpering, "I want you to give me everything. Make love to me, please Killian."

"Of course, my lady," he whispered, sitting back on his knees and taking her hands in his own to pull her to him. They were pressed to each other – from their chests to their most intimate places.

"Not a lady," she answered as he began to loosen the laces of her corset.

"You are to me," Killian answered honestly.

And the smile she gave him could have lit up the night sky.

* * *

Killian hadn't slept so well in ages. When he awoke in the early morning light, Emma was half atop him, her leg entwined in his and her head upon his shoulder. He was warm and comfortable, but that wasn't what had woken him up. No. It was the little body beside him with her head held up by her arms, wide blue eyes staring at him curiously.

They stared off for a few moments before Killian finally whispered, "Hello?"

The little girl cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing before a look of happiness overwhelmed her.

"Daddy?"

Killian's furrowed brow didn't distract her at all and she continued to jump up and down her cries gradually getting louder and making Emma stir beside him as the little girl leapt over him, hugging his torso as she continued to babble, "Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy…"

"Freya," Emma murmured sleepily, "It's too early – go back to bed."

But she continued with her chant until Emma opened her eyes and realized where she was – that being, on top of Killian whilst their daughter too laid over him.

"Freya?" Killian was looking at Emma in shock as he repeated the name. "Freya?"

He could see the fear in Emma's eyes, but also the tenderness as she watched the little girl smiling happily over Killian. Finally, she whispered, "Killian, this is our daughter."

He was still in shock, but his hand found its way to his daughter's dark hair where he cradled her gently whispering in awe, "Freya."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I know it's been a while, but I've had massive writer's block and have kinda just been trudging along. This is a shorter chapter - a little bit of a link.

I know I said this was going to be a shorter fic, but I got hit by a plot a few chapters back and have decided to roll with it. It'll probably be about 20 chappies. :)

Love you guys! Thank you so much for all your reviews, you're amazing!

* * *

_**Chapter Thirteen**: The King and the Evil Queen_

* * *

"She had fairer hair when she was born," Emma said with a soft smile as they watched their daughter scurry around for her toys. "It darkened this past year. It's like yours now."

"She's beautiful," Killian commented, unable to take his eyes off the wonder that was his daughter. As though they knew they were talking about her, Freya toddled over to her father and gave him her toy sword with a shy smile.

"Thank you, Freya," Killian whispered with a smile, chucking her under the chin. The little girl laughed and began to climb up into her father's lap. Killian seemed awkward for a moment, unknowing of where to place his hands to prevent her from falling.

"How did she know…it was me?" Killian enquired glancing from his daughter, babbling in his lap to Emma who was standing at the bench, watching the two of them happily.

"I guess, little children always think sharing a bed is the main part of being parents."

Killian frowned, "You never even slept in the same bed as…"

"No," Emma answered quickly. "No I didn't."

"Oh," Killian returned his attention to Freya. He was glad about that, but also quite uneasy. For years she'd had no one but Freya to love in this home.

"Daddy, food?" he caught amongst her inane babbling.

"Here," Emma said, giving the bowl of mushed porridge. "Try and make her eat it. You might have more luck than me. I'm still trying to wean her."

"That's why you don't drink," Killian realized, setting Freya upon the higher seat as she eagerly wiggled into her seat, mouth opening wide in preparation for her father to feed her.

Emma scoffed to the side, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, "Men."

* * *

"So you've been pirating?" Emma asked as she mended one of Freya's shirts whilst she napped later that day. Killian had run her around the house until she dropped at two, so now, they both had a chance to relax. Emma was even considering leaving Freya there with Killian whilst she went to go and grab food supplies from Ruby. It was Wednesday, so Ruby went to the market today.

"I have," Killian answered uneasily.

"Why?" Emma asked over her sewing.

Killian was quiet and Emma took it immediately as a bad sign. There were things she could forgive. Women and thievery, yes. Murder? Arson?

"That mission that Erais sent us on?" Killian said, his voice bitter, "It cost me my brother."

Emma had put her mending aside within a second. "Killian, why didn't you tell me?" She was next to him, her hands on his knees in comfort. And despite the fact that he wouldn't look her in the eye, he covered her hands with his large and warm ones.

"I didn't want to turn our joyful meeting sour, love," he answered, sighing deeply as he closed his eyes. "I came here…I came here in pursuit of vengeance. I hadn't meant to stay but when I saw the tavern... I had to have a glimpse of my memories even if you were no longer there. But then you _were_ and once more you consume my every thought, waking and sleeping…" He was looking at her now, blue eyes shining with love as he gazed openly at her face. "Emma…"  
"So you will go on, then?" Emma whispered, gulping softly. "In pursuit of Erais?"

"I…" Killian breathed out deeply, "I don't know what else I can do."

"You could stay," Emma offered, the hope in her eyes oh so obvious. She wanted that. She always had, but she knew it was impossible. Still she hoped. Foolishly.

"I have to go my Swan, don't you see?" he answered in frustration, his hands running through his dark hair and making it messier by the second. She could see he was anxious. He didn't want to leave her, but nor did he wish to leave his quest for vengeance. It was important to him – just as her family was important to her.

But still she couldn't understand it.

"You're just going to leave me again?" Emma breathed. "Is that really how little I mean to you?"

"Emma," he groaned. "When this is done, I will come home and be with you for as long as you'll have me."

"Or you'll be dead," Emma answered starkly. It was true. He'd be tried for treason and hanged for piracy before he could plead a word of his case.

"I won't be," Killian answered but Emma cut him off before he could continue.

"No!" Emma cried out, putting her sewing aside. "You are putting your desires above us. Is that all that you want out of life? I'm not your fuckbuddy Killian. Maybe I was once, but we are so far past that, that right now, if you leave, I won't be here for you when you come back."

"I'm doing this so I _can_ be with you," Killian answered following her as she leaned away. But Emma stood, beginning to pace.

"But your heart will always be looking forward to the next adventure. Isn't that what you've been doing for the last two years? Travelling on…you love it. You love the sea."

"I love you more."

"Do you?" Emma didn't believe it. She wanted to. But if he really loved her that much, then he wouldn't leave.

"I love you more than anything else, Emma," Killian answered earnestly, arms reaching for her. His hands were warm when he gripped her tightly. "And I want to be here for you and Freya."

"But you're running away again, Jones," Emma said softly, her hands coming to rest on his chest, hands tightening in his black shirt. "And if you're going, then we're coming with you."

* * *

At Emma's words Killian froze.

For a moment he could imagine it – him steering them towards a new land, Emma standing beside him with her arms around him as Freya grasped the bottom of the wheel.

Until he realized what was wrong with that picture.

"Swan, a ship is no place for a child."

"Well, we aren't going to be on a ship are we?" Emma answered. "We'll be going on foot." There was an element of excitement in her eyes as she kept going. And Killian wanted her to be excited. He wanted her safe, but he also wanted them together.

"Where there will be many dangers which you, and Freya, cannot fight."

"I'm safer with you than I am being left here," Emma answered straightforwardly. Killian wasn't sure how true that was, but he knew there were dangers here he hadn't thought of as a younger man. Right now though, he knew that he wanted her as safe as possible.

Perhaps…that was with him?

"If…_If_ we do this," he began, his hands gently stroking her arms, "I am teaching you to fight properly."

"I have good hand to hand combat –"

"With a sword," he interrupted and Emma's mouth opened and closed before a smile crept it's way onto her face.

"One of my men, Smee, he's good with kids. Lost his wife and daughter in a raid, so he'll look out for Freya on top of you and I. With six eyes on her she won't get up to too much trouble."

"Don't underestimate her," Emma laughed. "Nevertheless, she's a quick learner. She's very apt at knowing things."

"Aye," Killian answered, with a smile, recalling that morning, "I know."

He pulled Emma in for a hug, listening to her constant breathing as she mulled it all over in her head.

"I love you," he whispered. "No matter what."

She hugged him a little tighter.

* * *

_In Regina's Kingdom..._

* * *

"This is a little morbid, my Queen," Erais began, leaning back in his high backed chair, a tall glass of red wine in his hand that looked suspiciously like blood in the dim lighting.

"They make the most powerful of visions though," Regina answered, her fingers dusting over the two glass coffins with a satisfied smile. An unconscious and youthful Snow White lay within one, her husband within the other.

"Now," Regina began, "Why are you here?"

"I have a pirate problem," Erais began as Regina took a seat across from him, eyeing him curiously.

"And this is of interest to me…why?"

"Well, I could always close off the trade between our countr-"

The glass dropped to the ground as his throat tightened, invisible hands clenching around his windpipe. Reaching towards his throat, he noticed the Evi Queen was not looking to appeased with his request.

With a sudden hand movement, she let him go. Erais gulped down air with abandon.

"Threaten me again and your kingdom is mine," Regina answered. "As it is, I have a job for you. I need to find a woman called Emma Charming and you are going to do it for me."

"And you'll eradicate my pirate problem?"

"Yes," Regina said, "Provided you do not fail me."

"I won't," Erais answered, but having no idea how to find this one woman.

It had been 20 years since the princess went missing.

It was going to be hell trying to find her.


End file.
